


Deny Me Humanity - 10 Years of Torture

by R_A_Butler96



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-02 17:30:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 29,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4068508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_A_Butler96/pseuds/R_A_Butler96
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After 30 years of being tortured in Hell, Dean finally accepts Alastair's offer and picks up the blade. Along his descent into vicious sadism, Dean learns just how depraved a person can become when denied the ability to be human. This is a story of what happened to Dean during the infamous 10 years he spent torturing souls in Hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Offer

**Author's Note:**

> *The Alastair in this story is Christopher Heyerdahl
> 
> *Disclaimer* I do not own any characters, events, or places from Supernatural.

Year 29:

 Dean lay naked on the stone floor of his cell. The only cover he had was a tattered brown blanket thrown around his legs. His skin was stained in soot and his fingers were yellowed from years of neglect. The room around him was an empty dungeon of rock and wood. The only light that permeated the darkness was from a small window that sat upon the large wooden door. Just beyond that was a hallway of identical rooms. 

 Dean shivered as he dreamed of terrible thoughts. His muscles tensed and relaxed as he convulsed. The sweat dripping off his body caused him to glisten in the torch light from the hall. He began talking in his sleep. Muffled screams at first, then short words, such as no and stop. Dean mumbled loudly as the sound of footsteps began echoing down the hall. The fallen hunter began to twitch violently as the steps drew closer. 

 The torch light from the hallway suddenly disappeared as a figure stepped in front of the door. With the sound of the door handle clanking, Dean awoke in a startle and ran to the corner furthest from the door. He wrapped his arms around his body as he knelt down and stared in horror at the entrance. As the door slowly swung open, Dean hid his face beneath his arms. 

 Alastair calmly walked in with a smile on his face. He wore a solid black suit with shiny, white dress shoes. In his hand was a large scroll that was bound together with a leathery strip of flesh. The demon walked over to Dean and knelt down beside him. 

 "Hello, Dean"

 Dean started shaking uncontrollably.

 "Now now, cricket. I know I was a little hard on you yesterday. What can I say? You make me want to be a better demon. Also, tomorrow is the beginning of our 30th year together and I wanted to give you something special. But first things first, let's get down to business. It is time to present you with another opportunity to change your tune. Trade your place on the rack for another poor, wretched soul and we can end all this, right here, right now. Come on, Dean, just stop fighting and give in."

 Alastair held out the scroll for Dean to take. Dean looked up at Alastair. His eyes had formed dark bags and his face was contorted into an animalistic snarl. He reached out his shaking arm and took the scroll. 

 "Well look at you. I never thought I'd see the day. There may be hope for you yet, cricket."

 Dean attempted to stand up but fell back against the wall. Alastair reached down to help him up, but Dean slapped the demon's hand away. He steadily rose to his feet as his legs trembled. Dean's muscles tightened as he stared at Alastair. 

 "Fu...fuc...yu", Dean stuttered breathlessly. 

 "I'm sorry, I don't speak gibberish? You'll have to speak up, cricket."

 "I...said...FU...FUCK YOU", Dean uttered with a raspy voice.

 Dean then proceeded to wipe the scroll on his ass before throwing it back at Alastair. The demon looked down at the scroll on the floor and then back at Dean. Alastair let out a long deep sigh causing Dean to wince. 

 "I'm disappointed in you, Dean. You could have ended your suffering this very hour but you chose to keep going. Just remember, what happens next was your decision." 

 Tears began streaming down Dean's face.

 "Well, now that business is out of the way; we can let the fun begin."

 Alastair had two demons bring Dean to a room that was unlike the other rooms he'd been in before. It was a small room with green painted walls and a long brown table in the middle. In the corner sat an old record player while a light bulb hanging from the ceiling provided light. The demons shoved Dean into the room and slammed the door shut. 

 In a panic, Dean crashed into the door with his shoulder but it did not budge. He yelled out causing his already hoarse voice to squeak and crack. In exhaustion, he fell against the door and slid down it. Suddenly, he heard the hissing sound of a knife being sharpened behind him. Dean whipped around to see Alastair standing on the opposite end of the table. In his hand was a large silver knife that he calmly slid across a sharpening stone. 

 "I know what you're thinking. How am I going to slice you up today? Well, I hate to disappoint you but I'm just not feeling up to the hack-and-slash today. I think we have come to that point in our relationship where we need to take the next step. Simply ripping you apart isn't enough anymore. I need to make you endure something so horrific that you'll consider torturing souls the lesser of two evils."  

 Dean stared down Alastair with red puffy eyes. He had long since grown beyond the shame of being nude. Dean stood with an unwavering pose although his heart was pounding against rib cage as if in an attempt to escape its own prison. Alastair dropped the knife on the table with a hard metallic thud that caused Dean to jump back.  

 "You're a jumpy cricket, aren't you?"

 Dean just stared at Alastair as beads of sweat formed across his face. 

 "Now let's liven up the room with some music, shall we?" 

 Alastair walked over to the record player and flipped a switch that caused the music disc to start spinning. He gently picked up the needle and laid it on the record. The song "Cheek to Cheek" began filling the air. Alastair walked back to the table and looked down at the knife. 

 "This is your chance, Dean. Grab the knife and come over here. I want to see if you even have the stuff to be a torturer. I'm going to let you torture me."

 Dean did not move or even respond; he only glared at Alastair. 

 "Come on. Do it", Alastair said in a sing-song voice.

 Dean quickly lunged for the knife. As he reached across the table, Alastair used his telekinetic abilities to force Dean down on the table. 

 "Gotcha"

 Dean tried to struggle but the demon's hold was much too strong. Alastair walked over to Dean and picked up the knife.

 "Cruel, I know, but now you're in just the right position."

 Alastair slid the knife across Dean's body as he walked around the table. Now standing behind Dean, Alastair ran the knife down the hunter's back to his behind. Wincing in fear, Dean tried to free himself. Alastair set the knife down on the table and bent over Dean to whisper in his ear. 

 "I need to show you something. Something you're not going to like. Since you've been here in Hell, your brother, your friends...well, I'm afraid they've all been killed, Dean. If you don't believe, just have a look for yourself."

 Dean's eyes were blurry and he couldn't clearly see who the figures were standing at the end of the table. As they came closer, Dean's heart stopped. Standing there was Sam and Bobby looking at Dean with disgust. 

 "S...Sam...Bob-"

 "Save your strength, dumbass", Bobby spat in anger, "You're gonna need it."

 As Dean looked up at his comrades, Alastair slowly unbuckled his belt and slid his pants to the ground. The demon casually unbuttoned his jacket and shirt before throwing his tie over his shoulder. Alastair then grabbed Dean by the hips as he thrust into him. The song continued to drone on. 

 Dean let out a deep grunt followed by a stream of spit. His face turned red as he strained from the penetration. Sam reached over the table and grabbed Dean by the arms while looking him in the eye. 

 "My whole life you've done nothing but screw me over, Dean. Well now who's the one getting screwed?"

 Bobby started laughing as he walked beside Dean. Alastair continued ramming into Dean.

 "If only your Daddy could see you now. Gettin' fucked by a demon? That's a new low, son."

 Madness filled Dean's mind. Everything began blurring. He was in shock. His body went numb and his thoughts became nightmarish and primal. Dean began screaming in rage. Sweat and tears poured from his face as he attempted to attack those around him. Alastair only bore down harder on Dean. 

 Sam and Bobby laughed at Dean's torment. Laying his head on the table, Dean rocked back and forth. All hope had left him. Nothing remained of himself or those he cared for. Dean was finished.  

 "O...ok...okay."

 Alastair stopped moving. 

 "What was that?" 

 "Okay...okay", Dean muttered breathlessly.

 "Okay, what?"

 Dean let out a long sigh as he began to bawl.

 "I...I'll...do it. I'll...do it"

 "See. Was that so bad?"

 Alastair pulled out and removed his hold on Dean. The broken hunter's body went limp as he slid to the floor onto his knees. Dean vomited before falling over. He shook and twitched as he lay in the fetal position. Alastair buttoned up his shirt and pulled up his pants before removing the scroll from his pocket. He unfurled the document and set it on the ground next to Dean's hand. Alastair then took out a needle and punctured the end of Dean's finger. 

 "Put your finger on the scroll."

 Dean's hand shook as he reached out and hesitantly placed his hand on the document. Alastair pulled the scroll away and examined the smear of blood across it. 

 "The contract is signed, sealed, and delivered. I will no longer torture you so long as you torture souls in your place. Congratulations, cricket, you've just become my apprentice. I guess that means I should start calling you grasshopper."

 Alastair flicked his hand causing the record player to cease. 

 "Sam...Bob...by"

 "What? Your brother and that drunk? Well, I hated to resort to such underhanded tactics but I'm certain those two are still pitter-pattering around on Earth somewhere. Now, let's put all this behind us and get you to your new quarters and clean you up. A torturer really shouldn't appear so...disheveled."


	2. Another Day in Paradise

Year 31:

Dean awoke in darkness. He reached up beside him and grabbed the chain of a lamp. With a loud click, the room became illuminated around him. Dean was laying on a king sized bed underneath black silk sheets. The space was a far cry from the dank room he was thrown into after being chained up in a void for 6 years. Across the walls were rock posters, an extravagant Victorian mirror, and a suit hanging next to the door. 

The room was painted a dull white, while the floor was covered in a tan, shag carpet. On the wall near the door was a sink and small refrigerator filled with liquor. Being in Hell, Dean had no need for food or even a bathroom, but that did not mean he couldn't indulge. Alastair had furnished Dean with comfortable surroundings yet it did little to hide the pain of being in Hell. 

Dean slid to the edge of the bed and placed his head into his hands. With a deep sigh, he stood up from the bed. He was wearing silk boxers that clung loosely to his skin as he walked to the mirror on the wall. 

As he observed his face, Dean could barely recognize the person staring back. Staring into the mirror, Dean noticed his reflection move on its own. It smiled at him before its eyes turned black. 

"Well, another day, another throat to slit", the reflection taunted. 

Dean glared at the image. 

"Hey. Don't be mad at me. Like it or not, we're in this together. I mean, who else are you going to talk to, huh? Demons? Or how about you have a nice chat with those souls you slice open every day."

Dean looked away from the mirror and at the black suit hanging on the wall. Even in depths of Hell there was a dress code. Torture was always considered a black-tie affair by the demons. 

"Go on, sweetheart", the reflection continued, "Put on your monkey-suit and go do your little dance."

Dean begrudgingly put on the suit before walking over to the refrigerator. He reached in and grabbed a bottle of whiskey. Ripping the lid off in one smooth twist, Dean guzzled down half the bottle before taking a breath. 

"Don't I get any?"

Dean looked up at the mirror with a hateful gaze. He then looked down at the bottle. 

"Here!", Dean yelled as he threw the bottle hard against the reflection.

The mirror shattered into large jagged pieces that hit the floor. The reflection appeared in all the broken shards and laughed. Dean then straightened his tie and left the room. The door opened to the long stone hallway lit by torches. 

Dean walked with a confident stride down the hall, keeping his gaze directed ahead of him. The souls in the other cells ridiculed Dean as he walked by them. He ignored the jeers as he rounded the corner. At the end of the long hallway, there was a tall, black metal door. Dean walked up to the and reluctantly pushed it open. 

Inside was a gray, brick-lined room with a long metal table in the middle. The slab was attached to a mechanism which allowed the operator to move it in various directions. Next to the table was a cart that held an assortment of horrifically sharp implements and several bottled solutions used to carry out untold malicious deeds. 

Dean walked over to the cart and began inspecting each item. As he studied the sharpness of a scalpel, the door wrenched open with a squeaking whine. Two demons walked in carrying a short, naked woman with black hair. She cried out as the demons drug her across the floor to the table. Dean set the knife down and looked at the woman. She had delicate features and large brown eyes that reminded Dean of a begging puppy. It didn't matter, though; Dean didn't really care for dogs. 

The demons exited the room leaving Dean all alone with his new guest. She just knelt on the floor and stared at Dean with a look of terror. 

"Get on the table", Dean said in a cold, aggravated voice. 

"Please...please, don't do this! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please!"

The woman moaned and bawled as Dean stared at her, trying not to feel every ounce of her fear. He simply gave her a distant stare and repeated his request. 

"Get on the table."

"No...please...I...I can't..."

Dean set the blade down and quickly walked around the table. He grabbed the woman by the arms and pulled her up to his face. Her feet dangled inches off the ground as Dean held her. 

"I said, get on the table...NOW!"

Dean threw her back against the table. The woman sat down on the edge of the table and placed her arms around herself. After resuming his place behind the cart, Dean reached over and pulled the woman's shoulder to make her lay down. Tears ran down her face as she looked up at her tormentor. 

He then took the straps dangling from the side of the table and tied her down. Dean reached down and picked up the scalpel again before pushing the cart aside. He then looked straight into the eyes of his latest victim.

"Scream and whine all you like; it doesn't make a difference. I don't care what brought you here or even if you deserve to be here. I just want to get this over with and get on with my damnation, got it?"

Dean stabbed the scalpel into the woman's stomach causing her to scream out. He moved the blade downward in a straight line. The woman squirmed and writhed. Souls could feel every ounce of pain but were unable to die. Dean reached inside the sizeable cut and began disemboweling with an unwavering stride. 

Blood and intestines fell to the floor as he tore at her insides. The woman's high-pitched wails reverberated off the walls causing a ringing in Dean's ears. As he reached in for more organs, Dean noticed his hand had begun to tremble. He glanced down at the woman to see her delirious with agony. Taking several steps backward, he sat down with his back against the wall. 

He just stared at the blood on his hands. After a long period of time, the door opened and Alastair strode inside. He looked down at Dean who was still looking at the blood.

"Come on, Dean. This is pathetic. I've spent the last year teaching you the finest techniques in all of Hell and this is how you repay me? By sniveling in a corner? Dean, I need you to break these souls not just poke them with sharp objects. If I see anymore of this...sloppy work, I'll send you back to the green room. Is that want you want?"

Dean stood up and stared Alastair directly in the eye. 

"Go ahead. I don't care. Do with me what you will, but this...I can't do this anymore."

Alastair smiled as he put his hands behind his back. 

"Allow me to clarify, Dean. I'll send you back to the green room but not as a victim. You’ll be the audience. See, your brother Sam really wants to make a deal to save you. He was promptly denied but I suspect with the right push he can be coerced into coming straight to Hell. I'm sure he'll love what I've got in store for him."

"You son of a bitch!" 

Dean lunged at Alastair but was thrown back against the wall by the demon’s telekinesis. 

"Stop fighting this! You are here and here is where you will stay. Forever. Now get back to work or shall I send for your brother?" 

Dean's face contorted in fury. He stepped past Alastair and walked to the instrument cart. He picked up a hand-saw before going back to the woman. Dean began viciously ripping into the woman's upper leg. The teeth of the saw collected chunks of flesh as the implement was shoved back and forth across her leg. A single tear rolled down Dean’s cheek as Alastair erupted in laughter behind him.

Dean stumbled back to his room. His hands and suit were covered in dried blood. The mirror was still lying on the ground in pieces as was the liquor bottle he threw at it. He took off his suit and hung it on the wall. Now just in his boxers, Dean went to the refrigerator, pulled out another bottle, and began to drink. Dean sat on the ground next to the bed. After a long period of time, he got up and promptly began destroying the room. 

Dean kicked the mattress causing it to flip over. He poured the remnants of his bottle across the upturned bed. Using a box of matches, Dean set the mattress ablaze before tearing down everything from the room and throwing them on the fire. He struck the wall with his fists as tears ran down his face. 

Dean fell back against the wall before sliding down to the floor. He reached into the refrigerator and pulled out another bottle of liquor. He drank deeply from the container as he watched the fire burn. He continued to drink until he passed out. 

Dean awoke in darkness. He reached up beside him and grabbed the chain of a lamp. The click sounded like a shotgun blast to the ear. Every day he woke up, the room returned to its original splendor like nothing happened. He was lying in the bed that he had burned just hours before and all the posters had been returned to their original positions. The mirror on the wall was now fully intact and his suit was freshly cleaned and pressed. Every day was the same. Dean woke up, tortured souls, and then started all over again. Every single day.


	3. In A Mirror, Darkly

Year 33:

 Inside of a gray bricked room, Dean stood facing a fat, nude man covered in thick black hair who was tied to the ceiling by his arms. Around the man's neck was a leather strap that held a metal instrument with two sharpened prongs on either end placed on his chest and just under his chin. Dean gave a cold smile as he saw the man struggling to keep his head up. 

 "I'm impressed, Mark, it's been 16 hours and you're still hangin' in there. No pun intended."

 Mark looked around in distress. He began to sweat profusely while his head became heavier with each passing second. Dean turned around and stepped over to the cart. He picked up another implement like the one around Mark's neck and returned to his victim. 

 "I don't think I properly explained what this is. Have you ever heard of a Heretic's Fork?"

 Mark just stared down at Dean for he was too afraid to speak as the points of the fork were already scraping against his lower jaw. 

 "No? Well, let me enlighten you. Our little friend here was used on those who blasphemed against God. Funny how a bunch of guys devoted to a "benevolent being" could be so cruel. Anyway, this tool isn't just to mortify religious quacks...it's also for liars. Tell me, Mark, what have you lied about?"

 Tears welled up in Mark's eyes as he shook his head slightly to signify no. Dean reached up and grabbed his victim's head. 

 "Listen to me, you piece of shit! You're a liar. I know it, you know it. Look, I promise I won't hurt you if you're just honest with me. Now, what did you lie about?"

 Mark opened his lips but kept his jaw clenched shut as he spoke. 

 "M...my...wife"

 "Yes. What about her?"

 "I...I...be-"

 "You beat her. Every day, you'd come home in a drunken stupor and smack her around a bit before passing out on the couch. Then when people asked about her bruises, you'd lie and tell them what a clumsy bitch she was. It wasn't enough you lied about what you did, you lied to make her feel worthless by telling her she was nothing. That no other man would take her. She felt so small, so beneath the rest of the world that she eventually took her own life. Because of you. You're a liar and murderer, Mark, and Hell is where you belong." 

 Mark began to weep. Dean let go of the man's head and stood back. 

 "You're pathetic, you know that?"

 Dean walked over to the cart with his back turned to Mark and pulled a flask out of his jacket. He threw his head back and downed the entire contents before returning it to his pocket. Dean turned around with a look of disdain. 

 "You know what, Mark? I think I'm going to call it a day. I'm going to give you a pass, just this once."

 Dean walked up to Mark and stared him straight in the eye. 

 "But, before I go, I want to teach you something. Remember when I said I wouldn't hurt you? I was lying."

 In a blur of motion, Dean took hold of Mark's head and shoved it downward onto the prongs. The fork impaled Mark through the lower jaw, up into his sinus cavity resulting in a thick stream of blood pouring from his mouth and nose. The other end slid deeply into the fat skin of his chest. Mark gagged as he convulsed involuntarily. 

 "Now, see how much lying hurts. I mean, it just leaves a bad taste in your mouth."

 Dean turned around and casually strolled away from his victim and into the hall. As he proceeded through the corridors he began hearing a loud ringing noise in his ear. It caused him to become extremely dizzy as he struggled to regain his balance. He wasn't sure what had just happened but decided it was best not to say anything and simply move on. Dean reached his room and went inside. 

 He no longer took off his suit to sleep since it ended up on the wall at the beginning of every day regardless of where it was placed. Dean walked up to the mirror and looked at his reflection. Its eyes turned black as it stared back at Dean. 

 "How was your day, dear?", the reflection uttered with a smile. 

 "Can the sweet talk, I want you to tell me about my next assignment."

 "Yeah, yeah. You want me to tell you what sins they committed in life to somehow validate what you're doing to their souls. You're a real saint, you know that?"

 Dean rolled his eyes. 

 "Look, just tell me, alright. Don't worry about what I do."

 The reflection pulled a small piece of paper from its coat and began reading it. 

 "Oh, now here's what you want. A librarian with a smoking hot body. It makes me regret being just a reflection." 

 Dean scoffed and walked to the refrigerator to get out a bottle of liquor.

 "Really?", Dean inquired. 

 "I shit you not", the reflection confirmed. 

 "What was her sin?", Dean said  before taking a long chug from the bottle. 

 "Well, that's the thing, she lead a relatively pure life. She was kind and moral; at least she was until a demon crammed its way down her throat."

 "Wait. What does that have to do with her going to Hell?", Dean inquired.

 "See, Dean, things aren't black and white here, they're just gray. When a demon possesses a meat suit, it possesses its soul as well. If you kill a host with a demon in them using, oh I don't know, exorcism or a certain demon-killing knife, the host's soul goes straight to Hell; dragged, kicking and screaming. That's not even mentioning all the souls plucked up from deals, but I think you knew that one already. This puts a damper on your whole plan to only torture those who deserve it, doesn't it?"

 Dean looked undisturbed by the information. He set the bottle down.     

 "You're lying", Dean uttered in disbelief.

 "Now, would I lie to...myself?", the reflection retorted.

 "You mean to tell me there are completely innocent souls in Hell?"

 "Oh, they're not just here; this place is full of them."

 Dean walked back to the mirror and stared his twisted reflection down.  

 "Why the hell didn't you tell me this before?" 

 Dean folded his arms across his chest. The reflection imitated his pose. 

 "Because I'm evil, dumbass. Being a dick's kind of what I'm all about. This is Hell, Dean, not a damn summer camp. Plus, that look on your face? Priceless." 

 "What is it with you black-eyed bastards? Huh? You've gotta kick a man while he's the furthest "down" he can be?" 

 The mirror gave Dean a wide malicious smile.

 "You don't get it do you? What I am? I'm your soul, Dean. A reflection of the struggle inside you. Every soul you torture, guilty or not, takes away a little piece of your humanity. Once that's gone, all that's left is the evil part of you. How do you think demons are made, genius? It's sure as Hell not with an easy bake oven."

 Dean sat down on the bed as he stared at the wall with a blank expression. He was being groomed to become a demon and there was nothing he could do about it. After a long period of contemplation, Dean stood up and looked at the mirror again. His reflection eagerly stared back.

 "What do you want from me?" Dean asked. 

 "We want you to submit. You've assumed the role of torturer but you've yet to embrace it. Besides, I know you're not as upset as you'd like me to think. You're starting to enjoy this, aren't you?"

 "Shut up!", Dean retorted.

 "Hey, I'm just stating facts. Each time you go into that room, you feel the tension ease up just a little more. Focusing on their sins may help you justify your actions, but it's only hindering your potential. Alastair taught you the craft of torture, but I'm going to teach you how to be a demon."

 The reflection disappeared, leaving Dean all by himself. He looked at his actual reflection and saw a man without fear or even guilt. It was true that he was growing more comfortable in his surroundings even though he still clung to his righteous beliefs. Before, it had given him a since of duty and accomplishment but now, saving the innocent seemed...draining. 

 Although, what the reflection said was disconcerting, it didn't make him feel any worse. It made him feel excited. Like getting to act out your darkest fantasies rather than just imagine them. Despite the thoughts that rushed through his mind, there was one thing that kept creeping into the forefront. The thought of all the bad things he wanted to do to the librarian.


	4. The First Soul

Year 34:

 "Come on!", Dean yelled as he ran down one of the stone hallways. 

 He was dressed in a blue plaid shirt with a gray shirt underneath and dark colored jeans. In a fit of rebellion, he no longer wore the black suits that the demons insisted on. Following behind him was a beautiful woman named Jun wearing a tattered shirt and torn shorts. She looked around suspiciously as they ran down the hall.   

 "Are you sure this is the right direction?", Jun asked  fearfully.

 "Yeah. There's a way out of here just up ahead."

 They rounded another corner and came to a dead end. There they found a small stretch of hallway with a single door at the end. Dean stopped and looked around them. 

 "Did you hear that?", Dean asked. 

 "N-No", Jun stated with a nervous stutter. 

 "We have to go! Run!", Dean yelled as he pulled at her arm. 

 They ran to the end of the hall and threw open the door revealing a darkened room. Dean closed the door causing the darkness to instantly consume them.  

 "Where are we? What's going on?", Jun bellowed. 

 With a soft click, the entire room lit up with a bright fluorescent beam. The walls and floor were covered in white tiles with a large drain in the middle of the room. A large stereo with cassette decks stood in the corner while several straps and chains hung down fron the ceiling. Jun gasped as she looked around. 

 "Wha...what is this?", Jun said as she began shaking. 

 "This? This is my "play" room. It's where I go to unwind after a long stretch of tearing souls apart. You should consider yourself honored. Not many women make the cut, but when I saw you...well, I just knew had to try you on for myself." 

 "There's no way out...is there?", Jun muttered as she backed away from Dean. 

 "Yeah...I was just fucking with you, dummy."

 Dean walked toward the woman until she ran into the shackles that were hanging down. He quickly grabbed her and wrapped the cuffs around her wrists. She was now at his mercy. He smiled as he brushed his fingers gently across her face. Jun attempted to back away but the chains only allowed her to go so far. 

 "You really know how to make a guy feel wanted. You say "no" but those hips...oh, they're crying "yes, oh god, yes."

 Dean laughed as he saw the fear in Jun's eyes. 

 "What...what are you going to do with me?", Jun asked.

 Dean proceeded to pull a scalpel from his pocket and show it to her. She twitched as he ran the knife end along her neck and up to her cheek. 

 "Usually, with these types of things, the demons use drugs or just plain old fashion force, but I like a bit of finesse with my work. See, you can get a girl to do whatever you want with just one simple little trick. You've got to hurt them just enough to break them without taking all the fun away."

 Dean grabbed her shirt. She whimpered as he sliced a long cut down the front of her clothing. He pulled back the shirt revealing her bare chest and stomach. 

 "Nice", Dean whispered to himself.

 He then knelt down and grabbed her hips in order to pull her forward. Using the scalpel, Dean cut the cloth holding the button on her shorts and pulled the zipper down. She started shaking even more causing Dean to get excited. He cut the sides of the shorts and pulled them off. Jun was now practically nude. 

 "There", Dean uttered with a sigh, "Now I can show you my trick." 

 Dean proceeded to stab Jun at the bottom of her neck causing a thick stream of blood to pour out. He ran his hand across her body and over her hips. He reached between her legs and began stroking softly as he watched the blood trickle down her chest. 

 "Stop! Please!", Jun yelled.

 "You're right", Dean said removing his hand, "We need some music before we start." 

 Dean walked over to the stereo system and pressed play on the cassette deck. The song White Room by Cream began blaring through the speakers and echoing across the walls. Dean smiled as he turned around and walked toward Jun. She had started losing much more blood causing her to slump over.

Jun could barely hold her head up as she watched her tormentor approach. Dean stood behind her as he removed his belt, letting his pants hit the ground with a loud thud. This caused Jun to jerk forward. Dean wrapped his arm around her waist and pressed up against her bare skin. 

 "Please...stop."

 "Don't worry, I'll make it stop. I'll make it all stop."

 He thrust inside her causing her to rock her head back. Dean noticed the blood pumping faster as it flowed down the front of her body. As he used the soul for his own gratification, he moved his hand from her waist, up her ribs, to her breast. They were sticky and warm. He squeezed them tenderly as his hands smeared blood all over her skin.

 "See, a little blood loss and you're just putty in my hands."

 After a period of time, he retrieved the scalpel from his shirt pocket as he continued steadily pumping into Jun. Dean pulled her head back as he reached around her waist with the scalpel. Just as he was about to achieve satisfaction, he thrust the knife into her gut and tore a large hole across it. Dean shoved her forward with such a force that her intestines spilled out from the wound. 

 He picked up his pants and walked around to see her struggling from the assault. Dean walked up to Jun and pulled her hair back to see her face. Although, when he looked at her, he saw Bela Talbot staring back. 

 "It's always about your first", Bela said with a smile, "No matter how many souls you burn, it's always that first time that's still nagging at you. Tell me, Dean, how many souls have you tortured now? I bet you've lost count. But you still remember me, don't you?"  

 "Shut up!", Dean shouted.

 "Yeah, cause that works. I'm a figment, Dean, not some yapping dog."

 "Oh, I think you are", Dean retorted with a grimace.

 "Ha, ha. Very funny. I suppose I walked into that one-"

 "Leave me alone!", Dean interrupted.

 "You're the one that's conjuring me with your guilt. Only you can make me go away. You think I want to embody your sloppy-seconds. I just want to serve my time in Hell like all the other damned souls around here."

 "Trust me. After what I did, I don't feel guilty about anything because I don't feel anymore."

 "Well, then why am I here, talking to you like old chums?"

 Dean had long forgotten how to feel but seeing Bela's face reminded him of why he shut them off in the first place. 

 

Year 30:

 Inside a dank, black room, Alastair stood next to a table that had arm and leg attachments to hold down victims. Dean was huddled in a corner staring at the demon. The entire room was filled with candles that cast large dark shadows across the walls. Alastair was sharpening a large knife as he looked over at Dean. 

 "Come here, Dean. It's time you get used to standing up instead of cowering in a corner. You need to look respectable or the whole thing just seems...absurd."

 Dean stood up revealing his black suit and tie attire. He tugged at the coat as he cautiously walked over to the table. 

 "Stop fidgeting with the suit."

 Alastair held the knife out for Dean. 

 "Here, grasshopper, your sword."

 Dean hesitated as he looked down at the blade.

 "No tricks?", Dean asked with mistrust in his voice.

 "Oh, Dean. I thought we'd put all that behind us. Well, behind you anyway. Yes, grasshopper, no tricks. You need a tool if you are to shred these souls to ribbons."

 "So...I just need to kill these souls?", Dean asked as he took the knife. 

 "Kill? Hardly. What do you think this is, Dean, a hunter's retreat? Hell is pain and misery. You can't feel pain if you're dead, grasshopper. Souls cannot die nor can they be destroyed. The best we can do is cut them into little pieces and use their entrails as confetti. It's just enough to get a guy through the day."

 "I'm not going to hurt people. You've got the wrong guy if you think I can just randomly torture people without a conscience. You damn demons make me sick."

 Suddenly, the door opened as two demons brought in a nude woman with a hood on her head. The woman moaned and whimpered as she was forcibly placed on the table. Alastair caused her to stretch out her body using his demonic powers and strapped her to the attachments. He then looked at Dean.   

 "Go ahead, grasshopper, see what gift we've brought for you", Alastair said with a sinister grin. 

 Dean pulled the hood off the victim to reveal Bela. 

 "Bela!" Dean yelled. 

 Rage filled Dean as he stared down at the woman who had betrayed him and left them defenseless against the rising darkness.  

 "Dean! I'm sorry. Please, I need help. You do that, don't you?", Bela uttered with desperation in her voice, "You save people. Save me, please."

 Dean looked up at Alastair who met his glance.

 "What are you looking at me for? You're the one with the knife", Alastair stated. 

 Dean hesitated. He had wanted to doll out revenge and it could not get more perfect than this. The struggle inside him began as he weighed the options. If he did this, his soul would forever be stained. If he didn't, he faced the green room for all eternity or worse...Sam would have to in his place. It was time to throw away the rest of the feelings he had before his time in Hell. It was time to start cutting. 

 Bela screamed in agony as Dean plunged the knife just under her ribs. She shook with pain as he slowly turned the knife back and forth. He pulled it out and looked at the blood on the end of the blade. Alastair started laughing in a manner that caused Dean great concern. Something about this was significant but he couldn't figure out what.

 Dean thrust the knife into different parts of her body again and again. Shallow cuts across her arms and deep ones in her abdomen. The thought of the knife penetrating her body began to arouse him. The rage inside him was insatiable and needed more. He started stabbing more viciously as he listened to her weep and call out for salvation. The pain he inflicted wasn't enough, he needed to humiliate her. 

 Dean pulled his pants down and pulled her legs apart. He shoved himself inside her causing Bela to gasp and writhe. He thrusted, again and again, each time harder than the last. He no longer could think of anything but the motion. The penetration. Dean was blinded by fury and pleasure. He grew close to climax right as he brought the knife down on hard into her chest. He then stumbled backward and fell to the ground.   

 After a long time, Dean started to calm down. As he came to his senses and realized what he had done, tears began streaming down his cheeks. Alastair laughed as Dean looked around in a grieve-stricken stupor.  

 "That's just the beginning, grasshopper. So many souls are waiting to be tormented and I think you have just the skills we're looking for. Let's call it a day, shall we?"

 The demons came in and took Bela's battered body. She gave Dean a broken stare as she was taken away. He never saw her again after that. Dean sat up and placed his hands on his head. He was racked with guilt and sadness. He wanted revenge but releasing it had turned him into an animal. Alastair reached his hand down to help Dean up. He took the demon's hand.

 After putting on his pants, Dean wiped his face off and took a deep breath. He walked over to Alastair and confronted the demon.  

 "Don't think what just happened is who I am. I was just angry and frustrated. The years I spent being tortured, I just needed a release. Something to focus on other than my own pain. I don't know what happened."

 "You let your true self out, Dean, and it was beautiful", Alastair said while gesturing emphatically with his hands. 

 "No, it wasn't. Listen to me, if I have to do this then I'm only going to torture souls that deserve it. Got it?"

 "Fine. This is your ball game, grasshopper, I'm just a spectator. But trust me, in time, you won't even care who it is you're cutting up, just so long as there's fresh meat on the rack. Torture will be your vice and you shall want for nothing."


	5. Into Gloomy Dungeons

Year 35: 

 Dean sat on the bed inside his room cleaning a long knife while he talked to his reflection in the mirror. Although, Dean wore his normal attire, the reflection still maintained the black demon suit.

 "Why did you cut yourself?", the reflection asked an apathetic tone. 

 "It's been three days since my last soul. I need to carve up something", Dean replied as he checked the sharpness of the blade.  

 "Well, sorry, people die every day, but that doesn't mean they come here. There's a pattern of influx between Heaven and Hell. Ebb and flow. Sometimes you're neck deep in souls, the next you're begging for scraps", the reflection said with a grin.   

 Dean stood up and put the knife in a holster that was strapped to his jeans. He looked over at the suit hanging on the wall and shook his head. Dean didn't believe the mirror. He was under the impression that the lack of new souls was due to his rebellion. 

 "So what do I do in the mean time? Huh? Sit around and talk to you?", Dean asked.

 "Worst things have happened", the reflection said, "Besides, Alastair doesn't want you to leave the room for the time being."

 "That's another thing. Where the hell has that molester been lately, huh? That bastard promised me I'd have souls on demand. It's been three whole days and nothing!"

 A knock at the door made Dean go silent. He quickly walked to the door and threw it open. Standing in front of him was a female demon with short red hair and a black business suit and skirt. She looked fearfully at Dean as he stared her down. 

 "What?!", Dean shouted. 

 "Hello, Dean. I am Xaphan. I was sent to tell you that Alastair wishes for you to be moved to different quarters. At your convenience, of course."

   "Let me get this straight. I get no souls, no answers and now you want me to move? Are you just itching to piss me off or are you demons just stupid."

 "Most certainly not, sir. These orders come directly from Alastair. It is for your own safety."

 Xaphan backed away slightly. Dean had noticed that over the past year, the demons had begun to fear him. He decided to use this to his advantage. 

 "Fine. Whatever", Dean responded as he grabbed a bottle of liquor for the road.

 Dean followed Xaphan down the hall and through a series of tunnels that lead further underground. He finished off the bottle and threw it against a wall. After a period of walking, he became suspicious and began to ask where they were going but was struck with a loud ringing in his ears. Xaphan grabbed Dean's arm and pulled him down the hall and into a large room with a steel door that was covered in odd symbols. As soon as Xaphan shut the door, Dean stopped hearing the ringing. 

 "What just happened?", Dean asked rubbing the back of his head. 

 "Something bad", Xaphan said as she reached into a box nearby. 

 The room was mostly empty except for several boxes stacked in a corner and a strange looking sigil that covered the floor. A huge white circle with markings was painted across the ground. Dean looked up at the distracted Xaphan and decided to take action. 

 Dean withdrew his knife from his hip and lunged at the demon. She screamed as he stabbed her repeatedly in the chest. She twirled around and threw him off. Xaphan regained her balance and attempted to throw Dean with her demonic powers but nothing happened. 

 "How are you doing that?", Xaphan asked as she continued to attack in vain.

 Dean stood up and lifted his shirt. Underneath were a number of symbols carved deeply into his skin. 

 "These little etchings here are part of the spell used for demon traps. Sorry, but you can't throw me around like a ragdoll anymore, sweetheart", Dean revealed with a sinister tone.   

 Xaphan ran for the door but Dean threw his knife and hit her in the hand just as she reached the handle. She cried out in pain as Dean grabbed her by the hair and pulled her to the floor. He then dragged her into the middle of the room and straddled her stomach. Dean grabbed the knife in her hand. 

 "Here. Let me get that", Dean said in a placid tone as he pulled the blade out.

 She screamed as he held it to her face. She attempted to punch him but he moved back too quickly. Dean responded by stabbing her in the shoulder. He then cut her arms so deeply it made them all but useless. 

 "Now, listen bitch", Dean said holding the knife up to her throat, "What the hell is going on around here? Where's Alastair? Huh? What's this room for?", Dean yelled.

 "I...it's to keep you safe", Xaphan said looking at Dean with a terrified stare. 

 "Safe? In Hell?", Dean said with a laugh, "Honey, that's just bat-shit crazy. You should probably take a day off and relax. I can help you with that."

 Dean thrust the knife into her body just below the sternum. Xaphan screamed out as Dean wiggled the imbedded knife. He twisted the blade slightly and pulled it out. 

 "If I dig deep enough, will I find black smoke? Huh? I just go poking around in there and all this black goo starts coming to the surface. It'll be like striking evil oil. Damn, we could be the Beverly Hellbillies."

 "This...this body...is just a construct", Xaphan stuttered in pain, "It just...looks real...feels real...please why-"

 "A construct, huh? Well let's see if we can deconstruct you and find out what's really going on around here."

 In a hallway on a distant side of the dungeons, Alastair stood with a demon named Malphas as they looked at a large hole in the wall. Malphas had an elderly face with white, styled hair, a black suit, and a small golden pin of a crow on his lapel.

 "Tell me, builder, how could you let such a thing like this happen? I mean, fortresses are you forte and yet it only took a single battalion of angels to blow through our defenses like a gust of sanctimonious wind!", Alastair shouted.

 "Not to worry. We have enough demons to guard the hole", Malphas replied in a hoarse whisper. 

 "Sure. This hole. What about the fifty others just like it. Even if we pulled every demon we had for guard duty, we'd never stop the angels from breaching. Plus, they've stopped the flow of souls coming to Hell which means we are working with a finite army. No more souls, no more demons."

 Malphas gave Alastair a look of concern as he contemplated the Grand Torturer's advice. 

 "We can fix the holes in a day. The angels have already retreated. We should no longer be in any danger", Malphas stated with a hint of denial.

 Alastair grabbed Malphas by the throat and lifted him into the air. Malphas struggled as his eyes turned black. Alastair responded by turning his white. 

 "You don't understand what's at stake here, do you? Those holy-rollers are looking for Dean Winchester. They'll be back if they're not here already. We need some major fire power on our side. Perhaps you should look through the Pit and pluck out one of the more...powerful demons we keep imprisoned."

Alastair lowered Malphas to the ground and withdrew his grip so the demon could respond. 

 "How about Samhain?", Malphas inquired while catching his breath, "He is most powerful."

 Alastair gave Malphas an irritated sneer. 

 "No. Samhain will rise in time. Plus, I'd rather not have to deal with that near-sighted, egotistical oaf. No, we need someone who's dealt with angels before. It's time to awaken Mammon. Now, leave me before I decide to use your insides as mortar to fix the wall."

 The lesser demon ran off in a hurry while Alastair strolled over to the hole. He looked out across the black, barren wastelands and red skies that formed Hell. He could feel the angels coming back for their next strike. 

 On a cliff in the wasteland were six angels, Castiel, Uriel, Hester, Inias, Balthazar, and Bartholomew. They stared down at the massive castle like structure that held the souls of Hell. The building displayed rows upon rows of walls and towers that stretched toward the turbulent crimson sky. The only thing the group was focused on, though, were the holes in the sides of the structure their brothers had fought to open. 

 "So, tell me again, why are we here?", Balthazar uttered as he looked around at the landscape that surrounded them.

 "We are here to rescue the soul of Dean Winchester", Castiel said in a cold, authoritative voice.  

 "I hate this place", Hester said with disdain, "Castiel, his soul is already lost. Surely you don't think he could last this long and not succumb to torturing souls. He's probably already a demon by this point."

 "No. I have looked in on him several times. He is still human...mostly", Castiel revealed, "Although, now I cannot find him in there. They have hidden him from me."

 "They have removed his soul from Hell, perhaps?", Inias said.

 "No. We guard all entrances, in and out", Uriel stated, "If he left here, we'd know it."

 "I don't mean to put a damper on our mission but why are we even rescuing him?", Bartholomew asked, "He has killed countless innocents on Earth. Regardless if he was merely killing a human possessed by a demon, he's committed murder."

 Castiel walked to Bartholomew and stared him down. The rest of the garrison looked at each other with concern. 

 "And do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body in Hell", Castiel quoted, "Have you forgotten the texts of the Word. This event is of biblical proportions and regardless of what any of you think of Dean Winchester, we are going in there to save him. Even if it is too late."

 The garrison lined up in a respectful pose and saluted their captain. 

 "We follow you, Castiel", Uriel said with confidence, "Even to Hell and back."

 The rest of the garrison signified their loyalty with a chant in Enochian that meant "Follow the Path of the Word".

 "Good", Castiel responded as he turned toward the castle, "Now, let us lay siege to Hell and turn it asunder until we find him. Although their numbers are many, we few are much more. Strike true brothers and sister, for we are about to enter the belly of the beast."     


	6. All the Devils Are Here

Year 35 Continued:

 Dean sat with his back against the wall as he stared at his work. Blood covered the walls of the room while Xaphan's body parts littered the floor. Although he was slightly exhausted from hacking away at the demon, Dean felt relieved that he could finally tear something apart. He smirked as he looked at the blood that had sprayed on him while he steadily stabbed the knife into the floor. Without warning, the door swung open and Alastair stepped inside. He surveyed the carnage that greeted him.  

 "So, I see you've met Xaphan," Alastair stated in a nonchalant tone, "I guess a lack of souls has left you feeling a bit...anxious. Oh well, we will put her back together later, right now I need you to come with me."

 Dean shot Alastair a contemptuous grin as he scraped the knife across the floor before lifting it toward the demon. 

 "Where have you been, you mother dick", Dean inquired in a calm tone.

 "Busy. Look, let's drop all this pointless banter. I need you to torture souls and lots of them."

 "I've already tortured almost every soul down here", Dean replied, "It's only fun the first time around. I don't do leftovers."

 "What you've been doing has only been practice. I need you to twist these souls into demons", Alastair stated. 

 As Dean spoke he gestured with the knife. 

 "What are all the sigils for?"

 "It's to-"

 "If you say it's to keep me safe, I swear I'll rip your jaw off and fashion your tongue into a new neck-tie."

 "They are barrier sigils", Alastair revealed, "It keeps those who wish you harm from seeing you."

 "Those who wish me harm? What, like you guys?"

 Dean stood up and walked over to Alastair with his fist clenched tightly around the knife. 

 "No, Dean. Something much worse. We need more demons to defend against this threat. I'm going to put you on a non-stop torture marathon. Every second you're not corrupting a soul is one more second our enemy has to overwhelm our numbers."

 Dean maintained a cold, emotionless stare as he looked straight into the demon's eyes. 

 "Yeah, so who's dumb enough to attack Hell?", Dean asked with disbelief in his voice. 

 "A rival faction. Politics really are hell whether they're on Earth or down here. It's nothing you should concern yourself with, grasshopper. You need only be focused on the souls on the end of your knife."

 Dean did not trust anything the demon said but he was starting to feel the itch. He knew he needed to torture souls or he would lose his grip on sanity. Plus, nothing felt better than that first slice of the blade against quivering skin. 

 "Fine. Take me wherever. Just as long as there's a victim in front of me, I'll carve you a new army."

 "Your appetite for torture is something to be envied. I swear, grasshopper, you will no longer be forced to put the kibosh on demons. Like a river, souls will flow to you and your hands will forever be covered in blood."

 In a hallway, deep within the bowels of Hell, Malphas walked through a massive cavern that housed a number of huge dirt pillars with inscriptions written on each one. Every engraving was the name of a demon that had been imprisoned long ago. Most of them had been placed there at the end of Lucifer's reign and were ancient compared to the current demons.

  Mammon was one of the first demons to be created by Lucifer and found the metals needed for constructing the Grand Fortress of Hell. He was greedy beyond all measure and often hoarded the precious alloys he discovered on Earth for himself. The demon became so obsessed with rare metals that he eventually snuck into Heaven to steal the material used for angel blades. He was caught in the act and swiftly ordered to be executed by Michael. 

 Lucifer intervened and saved Mammon but the damage had already been done. God decreed that Lucifer must seal the demons he created away or face divine wrath. After burying his creations in the Pit, Lucifer sought vengeance against God by tainting the Garden of Eden and laying the curse of the Mark upon Cain. 

  The time had come to bring forth the old and awaken Mammon from his eternal slumber. Malphas was a builder and, as such, knew the incantations needed to transform Hell; including those used to raise the demons from the Pit. Malphas chuckled at the memory of Azazel begging for him to release Lilith.

 Malphas quickly strolled by pillar after pillar. He saw many names that had gained infamy over the years despite their brief existence. Belial, Samael, Belphegor. He finally came to the name he had been searching for. Mammon. Malphas stretched his arms out and opened his palms toward the pillar. He began to utter the spell that would raise the demon.

 "Remitto tibi mammona pariet cupiditas et metallicae infernum."

 The dirt pillar suddenly shook and crumbled causing dust to fill the cavern. A massive plume of black smoke poured from the broken pillar and surrounded Malphas. It swirled around for a moment before it gathered together on the cavern path to form a construct body. The demon appeared as a tall, handsome man with long black hair and a beard. He wore black robes that featured intricate designs made from golden strands of thread while his fingers and wrists were adorned with rings and bracelets of various metals.  

 "Who awakens me?", Mammon uttered in a quiet, sleepy voice.

 "I am Malphas, my lord. Before you go above ground there are a few things I need to tell you."

  Malphas proceeded to explain all that had happened since his imprisonment. Mammon learned of Lucifer's sentence to the cage, Azazel's plan to release their fallen leader and subsequent death, and Lilith's continuance of the plan.  

 "Who is Alastair?", Mammon questioned.

 "He is one of the last original demons created. It was shortly after you were imprisoned, I believe."

 "Is he a Knight of Hell?"

 "A knight, my lord?", Malphas asked with a confused expression. 

 "It is of no concern. Come. I will help you with your angel problem but I need something in return." 

 Both demons disappeared leaving the cavern empty and silent. 

* * *

 In a hallway towards the front of the fortress, a thin, bald demon was holding a bowl full of blood and a paintbrush. He was hastily painting sigils on the stone walls as a figure appeared at the end of the hallway. It was Balthazar wearing a black coat and pants with a dark blue turtle-neck underneath. 

 "Hey, didn't your mother ever teach you not to write on the walls?", Balthazar said with a sarcastic wit. 

 The demon looked shocked at the angel's appearance and quickly finished the marking before stepping back away from the wall. 

 "Oh, I see. Is that your rebuttal? Your little doodle is supposed to stop me from coming over there and tearing you to itty bitty bits, right?", Balthazar asked with a cocky grin. 

 "Why don't you come over here and find out, myrrh-breath," the demon said before turning his eyes black.

 Balthazar chuckled.

 "You know, that only works on angels. Just angels."

 "What's your point?", the demon uttered with irritation. 

 Balthazar unsheathed his angel blade.

 "This isn't an angel."

 In the blink of an eye, the angel flipped the blade, caught it on the end and threw it at the demon. It plunged deeply into its chest causing the demon to spark and disappear into fiery smoke. Balthazar put his hands in his pockets and turned around just in time to see Bartholomew rounding the corner. The angel wore a black dress suit with a sparkly blue tie.

 "Really, Balthazar, do you have to toy around with them", Bartholomew said with an irritated tone, "I mean, it's not like their defenses are even a threat."

 Bartholomew snapped his fingers causing the wall to collapse and destroy the sigil. 

 "Where are Hester and Inias?", Balthazar inquired as he walked over to pick up his weapon.  

 "Right flank. You and I have the left. Castiel and Uriel are going straight down the middle."

 Balthazar looked unenthused as he began to stroll down the hall. 

 "Well, let's get this slog-fest over with. It's taken our brothers years to clear a path to the fortress, I'm sure it'll take us a few more just to get to the other end of it. How boring."

 "The path of the Word is long and winding. You are too restless, Balthazar. We face the armies of Damnation and you moan over the stroll."  

 "Oh, the walk is just fine; it's the time I'll have to spend listening to your brown-nosed rants about duty that's going to get to me. You're a damn boy scout, we get it. Move on," Balthazar retorted.   

 Bartholomew shot Balthazar a look of disdain.

 "I have no idea why Castiel would pair me with you. You're insufferable," Bartholomew bellowed. 

 "The answer's simple. He hates you. But, hey, we're all brothers here. Hate is just a part of the experience," Balthazar replied. 

 Bartholomew shook his head and walk passed Balthazar. The angels continued their journey through the halls in silence. 

* * *

 Inside a dark room in a distant corner of the dungeons, Dean stood over a nude man with a slender frame and blonde hair. He appeared frail and abused as he looked at Dean with a groggy stare. Alastair stood at the doorway as he watched Dean pull the knife from its holster on his pants. 

 "Now, be diligent, grasshopper. Let no body nor soul pass by you without being corrupted. You have exceeded even my highest expectations. You're something new, Dean. Something wonderful. And all will tremble at the mere mention of your name."

 Alastair smiled because he knew Dean didn't hear him. The hunter was focused on the man lying on the table. Blood was rushing through Dean's ears blocking out all other noise. Alastair stepped out of the room and laughed as he heard the screams of the man permeating the hallway.


	7. Where Seraphs Might Despair Pt.1

Year 36:

 Hester and Inias walked quickly down a corridor with no doors. Metal lanterns that hung from the ceiling cast an eerie glow across the walls. Hester wore a white, button-up shirt with a dark coat and pants, while Inias wore a dark blue suit with a black-and-white checkered tie. Inias kept looking behind them as he struggled to keep up with Hester's aggressive stride. She turned her head to see Inias' paranoid demeanor. 

 "Would you stop being so anxious?!", Hester commanded as she continued to stomp down the hallway. 

 "But...but you heard what that demon said", Inias stated with a tone of dread, "They have released Mammon! This may be a threat we cannot overcome!"

 Hester stopped walking and turned around. She went to Inias and placed her hands on his shoulders with a forceful grip. 

 "Now, listen to me, Inias. There is nothing in Hell that can stop us. You hear me? Nothing. We are soldiers of God. Righteous and holy. We have a duty to uphold; even when sent on a fool's errand."

 Hester let go of Inias and continued on. 

 "Thank you for that. I needed to come to my senses. I realize you do not believe Castiel is making the right move here but I trust him. I believe that what we are doing is for a good cause."

 Hester scoffed at Inias' comment. 

 "You are dangerously naive, Inias. Castiel is not making a charge into Hell to prevent the seals from being broken nor is it to rectify any error on his part. It's because he has a misguided faith in that...Winchester boy. He thinks that human is going to save us all."

 "The Winchesters are part of the gospel. They have a significant role to play in the apocalypse."

 "Ugh! Don't remind me", Hester stated, "Look, let us just do what is commanded and, hopefully, get back to Heaven."

 As the angels rounded a corner they were met by a group of ten demons. A male demon with long brown hair stepped away from the group to address the righteous soldiers. 

 "You angels", the demon uttered with disdain, "You think you can come and go as you please. Well, not anymore. This is as far as you get. I'm going to send both of you crying wee wee wee all the way home."

 Hester began chuckling at the demon. Inias withdrew his angel blade with a sigh. 

 "Oh please. What do you bottom-feeders think you can do to members of the Heavenly Host?", Hester taunted. 

 The brown-haired demon held out his hands while the other demons followed suit. They all began chanting in Latin. 

 "Omnipotentis Dei potestatem invoco Aborro te ut Angelum omnium obsequendum Domine expuet Domine expuet-"

 Hester and Inias began emitting blue light from their eyes and mouth. Just before the demons could speak the last verse, the angel Rachel appeared and waved her hand causing all the demons to fall to the ground. Hester and Inias stopped glowing and fell to the ground. They gasped for air as Rachel walked past them. She grabbed the brown-haired demon by the throat and lifted him into the air. 

 "For all the effort you spent learning that little chant, you could have spared yourself the trouble by remembering this simple truth. If there's one angel then there's a hundred more right behind them. Banishing us is a futile gesture. You consider your faction legion but it is WE who are many."

 Rachel placed her other hand on the demon's forehead to smite him. He erupted in a whisp of fiery smoke before disappearing. Hester and Inias regained their composure and charged toward the fallen demons with their blades drawn. The angels walked among the demons and stabbed them causing the same fiery smoke to appear and dissipate. After destroying the group of demons, the three angels gathered together in discussion. 

 "What do you and Inias think you are doing?", Rachel questioned with a scolding tone.

 "We are doing as we were instructed", Hester replied, "We are to retrieve the soul of Dean Winchester before-"

 "Before what?", Rachel interrupted, "Before he starts torturing souls? I'm afraid we are too late for that. This mission is over."

 "What?", Inias asked with an urgent tone, "You are not in charge. Castiel is. We cannot abandon our post unless instructed by him."

 Rachel slapped Inias across the face. 

 "You should watch how you speak to me. I am not your direct superior but I certainly out rank you. I am not asking for you to be insubordinate. I am asking you to fall back. We need to regroup and form a new plan or we could end up back up in Heaven in the worst way."

 Hester looked down at where the demons had been. 

 "How did they know that spell?", Hester inquired. 

 "I taught it to them", a voice said in a quiet tone. 

 The angels turned around to see the towering frame of Mammon standing behind them. 

* * *

  Inside the dank torture room, Dean sat on the slab as he stared down at the knife he held in his hand. He could see his black eyed reflection in the black suit staring back at him. 

 "Tick-tock, Dean, tick-tock", the reflection stated with a smile, "Its agonizing, isn't it? Waitin' for that next soul to hit your desk. You know, you really should have been a butcher instead of a hunter. You just have this way with carving up meat."

 Dean looked away from the knife and at the door. He thought he heard the handle jiggle but it was only his imagination. It has been several hours since his last soul was turned. He was starting to suspect that they were running low on victims as the last few were from the Dark Ages. These souls were so old and battered; it was like carving into mashed peas.   

 "I'm done with these deals with Alastair", Dean uttered to his reflection, "I need to cut into something more tantalizing than just Hell's leftovers. It's time for this birdy to fly the coop."

 Dean got off the slab and walked to the table with all the instruments and tools. He put his knife in its holster and pulled a small black bottle with white symbols from a shelf on the bottom of the table. He could see his reflection in all the surfaces of the blades.

 "What's with the change of heart? You've been torturing souls into demons and, suddenly, you just decide it's not enough anymore?"

 Dean looked down at one of the reflections on the blade of a scalpel. 

 "Man, for a devil on my shoulder, you sure don't pay attention, do you?", Dean said with an enthusiastic grin, "I haven't been making demons for Alastair. I've been filling this place with targets. Look out Hell, Dean Winchester has just graduated from souls to soul-suckers."

 The reflection looked surprised but maintained a straight face. 

 "Even if you could, how would you get out of here? Huh? The demons have you locked up, remember?"

 Dean continued to smile as he picked up the black bottle. 

 "I don't know what kind of acid this is but it melted a syringe and one of the scalpels. That door over there is being held by a single metal latch."

 He put the bottle down on the table and began to take of his shirts. The reflection looked at the bottle with spite before looking back at Dean who was pulling out his knife. He began carving the protection symbols into his body. Because of the continuous spell that healed souls, the sigils had to be carved in everyday. After he finished, Dean put his shirts back on and grabbed the bottle. 

 "Dean, you are making a mistake", the reflection yelled, "Do you think you can take on all of Hell by yourself?"

 Dean turned his head toward the reflection and shot it a half-smile. 

 "Yeah, actually, I do."

 He then threw the bottle at the door handle. The liquid ate at the metal latch causing it to melt off. Dean quickly threw open the door and confronted the two demons who stood guard. They tried to throw him with their powers but it was a useless gesture. Dean shoved his knife through one of the demon's face while the other demon backed away. Dean continued to stab the first demon until his prey fell to the ground. 

 Dean looked up at the one running away and threw his knife. It struck the demon in the leg causing him to stumble. Dean retrieved the knife from the demon's leg and then shoved it into its throat. Before Dean could tear the demon apart, he looked up to notice a stunned Xaphan who had just exited one of the chambers. 

 "Oh shit!", she muttered before turning around and running off. 

 Dean smiled as he looked at the demon who was struggling to remove the knife. 

 "You know, I think she likes me", Dean said before pushing the blade further into the demon's neck. 

* * *

 Hester and Inias were held up against the sides of the hallway by Mammon's power as he held Rachel up by the throat. Her feet dangled several inches above the ground. 

 "I know you came a long way for this but I am afraid that here is where we must depart", Mammon said in a hauntingly calm voice. 

 "I'd like to see you get out the entire spell before the backup arrives", Rachel stated. 

 Mammon chuckled. 

 "You are quite brave, but you are also quite foolish. Send me a hundred or a thousand angels and I will send them howling back to the Kingdom. I don't even need the spell. Just a touch will do."

 Mammon brought his hand down onto Rachels head causing her mouth and eyes to shine with blue light. Her entire body erupted into a pulsing bluish light and then disappeared. Mammon smelled his hands and then wiped them on his robes. 

 "You angels reek of frankincense, are you aware of that?", Mammon said to Inias and Hester, "Now, who wants to go next?"


	8. Where Seraphs Might Despair Pt.2

Year 36 continued:

 Castiel stood in an abandoned cell staring at the ceiling. His eyes glowed with a bright blue light. Uriel stood at the doorway keeping watch. He turned to see his captain return to his natural eye color. Castiel then walked out of the room and down the hall, his face contorted in a grimace of anger.

 "What is it, Castiel?" Uriel stated as he followed his leader. 

 "Dean is free from whatever cell he was placed in. I can see him again."

 Uriel cocked his head in confusion. 

 "That should be a good thing, right?" 

 Castiel stopped and turned to his brother. 

 "Not after what I have seen. I am close enough now I can read his aura. He has done regrettably terrible things while in this place. The darkness that surrounds Hell has crept into every ounce of his soul. All that remains now is his mind and body."

 Uriel shook his head and began to walk away.

 "Uriel? Where do you think you're going?" 

 The angel stopped and uttered a heavy sigh. 

 "Look, I only agreed to go on this...excursion, because I did it as a favor to you. I will not be privy to saving a corrupted soul. He's lost his way, Castiel. It's over. The only thing we can do now is go home."

 "We need him, Uriel. He can help us avert the apocalypse and save humanity. It has been ordained by God," Castiel uttered with urgency. 

 "Even if that were true, we do not need a little piece of filth like him topside right now. He's just bad for business."

 Castiel stared at Uriel with stern glare. 

 "How dare you speak of Dean Winchester in such a manner. Flawed though he may be, he is capable of extraordinary deeds and must be protected. I believe that this human has a higher purpose. He is our last hope." 

 Uriel laughed causing Castiel to grow angry.

 "Do you dare mock your captain?", Castiel asked in an aggressive manner. 

 "By no means. I serve Heaven and all those appointed above me but really Castiel, this creature is our last hope? You have put way too much faith into a...human. I feel that this is not going to end well for any us if you continue down this path."

 "Uriel, If not for you, we would not have made it this far. You say you honor your duty to those appointed over you. If you leave now, you will be charged with insubordination and punished for your insolence. Do not force me to resort to that."

 Uriel walked up to Castiel and looked him square in the eyes. 

 "Duty and loyalty will get you nowhere these days. I honor my brothers. If that makes me insubordinate, then so be it. I will stay and help, but not for your mission. I stay to make sure that you are not making a mistake. If need be, I will rectify the situation."

 Castiel opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by the sudden appearance of Balthazar. 

 "Hey chief, you got a minute?" Balthazar was out of breath and limped as he walked. 

 "What is it, Balthazar?" Castiel looked down to see blood dripping from his leg onto the floor.

 "Well, me and Bart were facing down a pack of hellhounds when one of them bit me. I shrugged it off and stabbed the sucker but my leg, um, it won't heal and I'm starting to feel woozy," Balthazar said with a bit of slurred speech.

 "Where is Bartholomew?" Uriel asked while Castiel bent down to inspect Balthazar's wound. 

 "That's the bad news, isn't it? See, we caught wind that Mammon has been released so he popped over to check on Hester and Inias. He didn't come back right away so here I am telling you about it."

 "Mammon?!" Castiel yelled as he stood up. 

 "Yes, the Mammon daddy warned us about so long ago," Balthazar said as he went to the wall and leaned against it, "So what about my leg?"

 "If what you heard is true, then it would appear that Mammon has taught the demons how to defend against angels," Castiel stated with a look of concern, "This is an Enochian poison called Apsinthos, it can kill humans and animals but it can only incapacitate angels. They must have lined the mouth of the hellhounds with it. You will be fine; however, you may feel like you are drunk for some time. Consider yourself lucky that Mammon does not know how to kill our kind or you would surely be dead right now."

 "What about Ion and Esper?" Uriel questioned.

 "What about those two? I thought we were the only angels down here," Balthazar uttered looking over at Castiel. 

 "Technically, there is only one group down here but I thought it was necessary to divide it into two waves. The first wave was to infiltrate Hell's defenses and rescue Dean Winchester. The second wave was to act as a backup for the first in the event something were to happen. Rachel was left in charge. If Mammon has been released then she might have already taken action. We must regroup with the others." 

 A sudden loud banging down the hall signified a door had opened. After a few moments, six demons came hurriedly walking down the corridor. 

 "Should we stay and fight or just go ahead and do that tail between our legs thing," Balthazar asked while he limped away from the wall. 

 "You two go", Uriel said as he cracked his knuckles, "I feel I need to let off some steam."

 Castiel gave Uriel a stern look before him and Balthazar disappeared. Uriel walked toward the group with his hands held in the air. 

 "Gentlemen, I come in peace", Uriel stated with a smile, "You know I just saved your behinds, right? Those two were ready to wipe you off the face of Hell."

 "You must be Uriel. Alastair warned us about you," the demon in the front of the group said. 

 "Now, now. I only asked him for a favor and he declined. I don't understand this...animosity you demons have with angels. We are a higher lifeform and that can be intimidating but you lower beings should be looking up at us with reverence not hatred. Plus, you demonic leeches should really know your place." 

 The demons fidgeted but did not attack.

 "Or we could just utter this phrase we just learned from our old pal Mammon and see what an angel on fire looks like." 

 Uriel chuckled before waving his hand causing the demons to hit the walls.   

 "Look, I don't want to argue how inferior you are. I just want to give you a helpful tip." 

 "What?" The demon struggled. 

 "You need to stop attacking us like you have been."

 "And why would we do that?"

 "Because you're losing this war between us and I'm tired of cleaning your guts off my clothes. Here." 

 Uriel made a piece of paper appear in the demons hand. 

 "This has a number of proper warding spells that will keep my comrades at bay until you can figure out some way to hide that pesky soul. Remember, I just want what you want."

 "And that is?" The demon muttered.   

 "For Lucifer to rise, of course," Uriel uttered in a cold, deep voice. 

* * *

 Dean strolled down the hallway with a gleeful stride as he pursued Xaphan. Her red hair bounced and swayed as she tried to out run her tormentor. She looked ahead and saw the room in which Alastair stayed in. Xaphan burst through the door to see Alastair arranging his torture instruments. He gave her an annoyed look.

 "What do you think you're doing? No knock. No request for invitation. You just barge in here and expect me not to tear off your limbs?" Alastair shouted. 

 "It's Dean Winchester! He-" Xaphan stopped talking abruptly. 

 Dean stood up from behind her after having thrust the knife into her back. She fell to the floor and began crawling backward, away from Dean. Alastair set the hook he was holding on the table with the rest of his assorted tool and moved his hand to throw Dean against the wall. 

 It did not work. 

 Dean lunged at Alastair with the knife but the demon moved aside and physically threw the hunter across the room. 

 "That's not right. When I wave my hand you're supposed to go squish against the wall. Let's see why you're so resistant to my powers," Alastair said as he walked over to the stunned Dean. 

 He checked Dean's arms and then lifted his shirt. Alastair smiled at the pure craftsmanship and elegance of the anti-demon symbols. 

 "Oh, now I see. You're a clever one, aren't you grasshopper? That's my boy. But however smart you may be, just remember, I'm smarter. I'm also faster, stronger, and, overall, just better than you. Here, let me demonstrate." 

 Alastair snapped his fingers, causing all the symbols on his body to suddenly disappear. Dean had been cured of his self-inflicted wounds. The demon then lifted Dean up the wall with his power. Alastair smiled as Dean seethed with fury.  

 "You've really let the primal out, haven't you Dean? I think we are beyond the normal parameters of torture. You are so full of unbridled rage that it hurts me to see you so...unfocused."

 Dean turned his head to see Xaphan looking up at them. He gave her a wicked smirk.

  "Really? You still want to torture Xaphan? Besides the fact that she's a demon, why would you want to attack her again? Hmm? Are you starting to have a thing for black-eyed beauties? Tell me, what makes you yearn to tear away her flesh?"

 Dean turned back to face Alastair. 

 "Because she's afraid," Dean uttered in a distant tone.

 Alastair responded with a broad smile. He then looked down at Xaphan with a disgruntled glare. 

 "You'd best go have Malphas patch you up or just leave. Either way, I don't care what you do but in five seconds, I'm going to release my pupil and I'd rather not have blood all over my things. Well, not your blood, anyway."

 Xaphan got to her feet and ran off down the hallway. Alastair then let Dean off the wall and turned his attention back to his table of implements. Dean stared at Alastair for a moment and then looked at the door. He proceeded to run after Xaphan but Alastair slammed the door shut just as Dean reached it. 

 "Damn it, Alastair! Let me go!" Dean tugged at the door handle with all his might but it was no use. 

 "Grasshopper, you must forgive me. I see now how neglectful I've been. I left you to fend for yourself and it has turned you into this...monster."

 Dean stopped his assault on the door and slowly turned to glare at Alastair. His face had become flush and straightened almost as if he appeared to be nauseas. 

 "I am not a monster. Not even close. These are the souls of the damned. Impure and misguided. I turned them into what they needed to become. Demons. After I rid this place of souls, I'm going to start exterminating the demons. You say you're smarter than me but you've completely overlooked the big picture. I know you're not getting any new souls down here or I wouldn't be digging through the scraps."

 "Oversights happen."

 "Right. The only thing I can't figure out is what you guys are fighting. Rival faction or not, whoever they are, they're swinging some serious mojo to stop souls from coming in." 

 "How perceptive of you. Even with the smallest bits of information possible you figure out things that would otherwise be completely unknown to you. This is part of what makes you such a skilled torturer; you can see by the look on their faces just what kind of pain to inflict. Nevertheless, I cannot permit you to continue your ridiculous quest. Also, I believe you need to take a break from torturing souls. You're just too good to meet demand."

 Dean walked to the table and stared at Alastair. 

 "And just what do you think you're going to do with me? Huh? There's nowhere you can put me that I won't figure a way out of. I'm like the MacGyver of Hell."

 Alastair laughed as he walked around the table to Dean. 

 "Oh, there's always a place Dean." 

 Before Dean could react, Alastair grabbed him by the side of the head. Dean was suddenly transported to a place that was pitch-black. He fell through the air until he hit deep water. He struggled to get to the surface as he swam through the darkness. He finally breached and gasped for air. 

 He looked around him but saw nothing but black. A faint reddish glow below him caused him to look down. He could see the figures of people coming to the surface. They grabbed at him and pulled at his clothing. Dean struggled to get away but everywhere he turned there were more people. Faceless, probing figures that began to pull Dean into the water. As he screamed out for help, he could hear the booming voice of Alastair permeating the darkness. 

 "You need a time-out, grasshopper."

 Alastair stood in his room facing Dean who was staring blankly at the wall. Alastair had put Dean's mind in a loop of torture. He realized that while Dean was important to the plan to resurrect Lucifer, he was also detrimental to it. Alastair began singing "Cheek to Cheek" softly to himself as he went back to arranging his instruments.   


	9. Where Seraphs Might Despair Pt.3

Year 36 continued:

 Mammon faced Bartholomew who stood in front of Hester and Inias. Bartholomew looked upon Mammon with concern. The demon had stolen his angel blade and was twirling it through his large fingers. 

 "Marvelous. This metal is simply exquisite. Did you know it even hums?" Mammon held the blade to his ear. 

 "You are not authorized to use that weapon. Relinquish it at once or face the power of the Heavenly Host." Bartholomew remained standing his ground. 

 Mammon chuckled as he continued to inspect the angelic metal. A fluttering of wings signified more angels appearing behind Bartholomew. Hester and Inias brightened up as they saw Castiel and Balthazar appear. 

 "Mammon. It was commanded by our Father that you remain buried in the darkest pit of Hell for all eternity. You have broken that order and are hereby sentenced to death as is commanded by the Word of the Lord."  Castiel pulled out his angel blade. 

 Balthazar was having a hard time standing when he saw Castiel unsheathe his weapon. He went to pull out his own but it fell to the ground as he attempted to grab it. Balthazar drunkenly stumbled to the floor as he went for the blade. Castiel sighed and then waved his hand. The hold on Hester and Inias released.

 "Get him out of here", Castiel demanded, "He is worse than I thought."

 Hester and Inias grabbed Balthazar and disappeared. Bartholomew reached down and picked up the dropped blade. 

 "Apsinthos is an atrocious ailment. It cannot bring you to death yet it makes for an amusing spectacle. This trinket; however, is your ruin." Mammon laughed at the angels with a deep, wicked laugh.  

 "How do you want to do this, Castiel?" Bartholomew whispered. 

 "Carefully."

 Mammon held the blade in his fist as he began to approach the angels. Castiel and Bartholomew had to look up just to keep the demon's face in view. 

 Just as he reached the angels, Bartholomew lunged at Mammon and stabbed him directly in the heart. This caused the towering demon to take a step back. To the shock of Castiel and Bartholomew, Mammon simply chuckled as he slowly pulled the blade out. 

 "Now I have procured two blades. Luck is with me this day."

 Mammon went to stab Bartholomew but Castiel grabbed the demons arms. With a slight flick of the wrist, Castiel was thrown into the wall. Mammon laughed as he approached Bartholomew again. 

 Castiel regained his balance and noticed he had pulled off one of Mammon's bracelets. He saw Enochian symbols glowing on the inside. Just before Mammon could plunge the blade into Bartholomew, Castiel snapped his fingers causing all of Mammon's bracelets and rings to fall to the ground.

 Mammon stopped his assault and stepped back to look at his broken jewelry. He was noticeably distraught as he turned to look at Castiel. 

 "You fool! I will destroy you!" Mammon stomped towards Castiel. 

 "Bartholomew, he can be killed now." Castiel threw Bartholomew the angel blade. 

 Bartholomew promptly ran at Mammon. Just as the blade pierced the robes of the massive demon, Mammon erupted in a huge wall of black smoke. It shoved the two angels into the walls before disappearing down the hallway. 

 Castiel and Bartholomew got to their feet. They looked at each end of the hallway before walking to each other. Bartholomew handed Castiel his blade back and then fixed his tie. 

 "That was...unpleasant. Is that really the Mammon we were warned about by Father? He is nothing more than a trumped up demon with basic knowledge of Enochian."

 Castiel bent down and picked up the bracelets to examine them. While most of the symbols were common, several were written in a dead dialect of Enochian that predated most forms of the angel's speech. 

 "Mammon is a far greater threat than we can possibly comprehend. He has knowledge of Heaven that even I am not aware of. We need to regroup and find out what happened to Rachel as well as Esper and Ion."

 Bartholomew went over and picked up the two blades that Mammon had dropped in his escape. 

 "Is it true, Castiel? That our blades can be used to kill our own kind?" 

 "I don't know but next time; do not let him get your blade so easily. We cannot take a chance of finding out."

 Bartholomew and Castiel disappeared from the hallway. 

* * *

 Alastair sat on a metal stool in his room as he sharpened his blades. Dean remained in the position he had been in before. He appeared to be looking through the wall he stared at. A small knock at the door rang out through the silence. 

 "Come in." Alastair sat his utensils on the table in front of him. 

 Malphas walked in holding a scroll. 

 "My lord, we have good news," Malphas said with an eager grin, "One of Lilith's top men, the Salesman, I believe, was able to procure us over a hundred new souls. He is sending them through a hidden passage way to Hell that the angels are not aware."

 Alastair stood up and walked over to Malphas. 

 "I need you to appoint someone to guard that passageway. While the Salesman is useful, for the moment, that may change in the near future. I'd rather not let that arrogant, little crossroads demon have an all-access pass to Hell."

 "Yes, my lord. Oh, and one other thing. A lower level demon was given this by the angel Uriel." Malphas handed the folded piece of paper to Alastair.

 Alastair took the note and began to read it. He could see several powerful warding symbols written on it. 

 He turned the paper over.

 On the back was a hidden message that only Alastair could see.

 It read: "We can see Dean. Ward him." 

 "Why are you still here?" Alastair glared at Malphas.

 "Sorry, my lord." Malphas bowed and left the room.

 Alastair walked over to Dean and pulled up his shirt. The demon then touched Dean's bare chest with his finger causing several of the Enochian symbols from the note to burn into his skin. Alastair then spoke an incantation that removed the affects of the healing spell from Dean.   

 "It looks like I'm going to have to keep you under longer than I thought. I suppose I should show you something with a more of a sting to it. It's time for you to receive your own medicine to humble you a bit."

 Alastair touched the side of Dean's head in order to change the images in his mind. 

 Dean was struggling to fight off the faceless tormentors as he was being pulled down into the depths of the pitch-black water. Suddenly, the figures vanished and he could no longer feel the water against his body. While still encased in darkness, he felt the environment around him. 

 A cold, flat surface suddenly pressed against his back. Dean realized he was lying on some sort of slab. Without warning, a blinding flash came on from above him. After a few moments of adjustment, Dean could finally see that it was only the light of an overhanging lamp. 

 On the floor behind him he heard the sound of dress shoes tapping across the surface. Dean looked up to see the outline of a figure moving in the darkness. Although it was too dark to tell, something about the figure seemed familiar. 

 As the being stepped into the light, Dean's heart stopped. The figure was his demon reflection come to life. It smiled down at Dean as it held out the knife.

 "Hello, sunshine. How would you like to be carved up today?"

 As Alastair walked back to his stool, the entire room began shaking. The hallway outside the door filled with black smoke that began swirling around into one spot. Mammon appeared out of the smoke and fiercely strolled into Alastair's domain. 

 "I am calling in my favor! These angels have become much more...independent. In my time, angels were nothing more than God's puppets that couldn't even blink without an order. Only the archangels thought for themselves. Now they are coordinating with each other without so much as a prayer to Heaven. I cannot face them alone. I told you when I was raised, I wanted something for my services."

 Alastair stared up at the ancient demon with a look of intrigue. 

 "And that is?"

 "I want you to restore the Knights of Hell."

 Utterly surprised, Alastair looked away from Mammon and quietly walked to a nearby cabinet. He pulled a scroll from out of a hidden compartment inside one of the drawers. Alastair then walked to Mammon and handed him the paper.

 "The Knights are all dead. The only member left is Cain and no one has known his whereabouts in ages. There is nothing left to restore."

 Mammon grabbed the scroll and looked it over. He scoffed at the stories of the Knights of Hell before throwing the paper back at Alastair.   

 "These are not the Knights of Hell. Those pathetic creatures are just a mere imitation. Lucifer created me and the other pure demons for a specific purpose. We were to bring on a new age by laying waste to the old one. You think I went into Heaven for my own indulgence. No, Lucifer sent me there to collect weapons for his personal soldiers to use against the Heavenly Host. We were his true Knights."

 "You know how to kill angels?" 

 Mammon smiled as he knew that Alastair had played right into his hands. 

 "Release the others and I shall teach you how."


	10. Where Seraphs Might Despair Pt.4

Year 36 continued:

  The angels stood in a dimly lit hallway that ended in a brick wall. The only light came from two torches that burned on opposite ends of the corridor. Balthazar sat passed out on the floor with his back against the wall. Inias knelt beside him to examine the angel's aura. Hester leaned against the opposite wall with her arms crossed as she stared down the other end of the hallway. 

 A moment later, Castiel and Bartholomew arrived. Bartholomew immediately went over to Balthazar while Castiel talked to Hester. 

 "Have you seen Rachel?"

 Hester gave Castiel a startled look.

 "She was sent back to Heaven. That demon just touched her. A touch, Castiel. Demons are not supposed to possess those abilities. Do you have any idea how painful it is to be sent back to Heaven that way? Look, I know this is important to you but we are not suited for fighting the demons of old. Father warned us about him for a reason. What if the demon was lying and Rachel is really dead?"

 "She isn't," Castiel responded, "I would have felt it. Did Esper and Ion suffer the same fate?"

 Inias stood up. 

 "They never showed up", Inias said grimly.

 "Then we need to find them. After that we can continue our pursuit of Dean Winchester," Castiel stated. 

 "Rachel said our mission was over," Hester uttered. 

 "The mission as we knew it is over," Castiel corrected, "We are still going after his soul with the forces we have left."

 Inias walked over and put his hand on Castiel's arm.

 "I would follow you anywhere, Castiel," Inias said in a comforting tone, "But this may be a battle we cannot overcome. If your choice is to go...then I will go. I am just asking that you listen to reason first."

 "He is right, Castiel," Bartholomew interjected, "Mammon could have possibly killed us or worse. We do not know what he is capable of. In fact why don't you tell them about the bracelets?"

 Castiel looked at Hester and Inias. The angels stared back with curiosity. 

 "Mammon knows an ancient form of Enochian called Sirach, also known as the Patriarch's Tongue. He used that information to ward himself from harm. I am uncertain; however, if he used the sigils to send Rachel home or if that is an inherent quality." 

 As the angels were gathered in conversation, Balthazar awoke in a startle. He tried to stand up but fell back down. He let out a sigh and then laughed. 

 "Someone has apparently glued my ass to the floor," Balthazar said looking around for a perpetrator.

 Bartholomew bent down to help Balthazar up. 

 "Why thank you, Bart," Balthazar said in a cheeky tone, "I never knew you cared."

 "It is Bartholomew and trust me, I don't. I'd simply rather not watch a brother lay on the floor, drooling on himself. 

 Balthazar steadied himself by holding onto the shoulders of Bartholomew and Inias. 

 "So what's the plan then? We gonna bust in there and just grab the soul? Are we mad? Seriously? Well, I surely hope we are, because this plan definitely is," Balthazar ranted.

 Castiel stood back from his group and looked at them. 

 "I know this is not what we intended when we came here. I asked you all to come with me and none of you hesitated for even an instance. I feel now that maybe you were simply being obedient in your servitude. As far as Heaven is concerned, Dean Winchester is no longer a top priority. The first seal has been broken. If you are here to honor the position of your duty, then please go back and serve Heaven. But if you wish to help me save our one chance to end the apocalypse, then I will accept your loyalty."

 Balthazar walked forward bringing with him Bartholomew and Inias. Hester remained standing away from Castiel. 

 "Castiel, you're a fool," Hester remarked, "But I suppose we are the greater fools for following you. You have my support."

 Castiel did not smile but his face beamed with joy. 

 "Now that we are together, we need to stay together. Uriel should have rendezvoused with us by now. Also, I can no longer see Dean Winchester. The demons have completely hidden him from me. At this range, even if he is warded, I should be able to sense some part of his aura. I fear there may be something very wrong going on here."

The angels all disappeared at once.

  From the shadows of the dead-end, Uriel walked out with Ion and Esper following behind him. 

 "I don't like this, Uriel," Ion whispered, "Sneaking around the garrison's back like this." 

 "Do not worry, Ion," Uriel reassured, "We are not doing any harm; I just need you two to hang back. We are going to act as backup for the rest of the garrison in case something goes wrong. Plus, if you do this, I will put a good word in for you with Naomi over in the Intelligence Department."

  Ion looked at Esper who seemed pleased to hear news of a possible promotion. Uriel smiled as the three angel's vanished. 

* * *

 Alastair stood with Malphas in the cavernous pit where they had raised Mammon. They watched as the ancient demon removed his robes. He pulled the clothing over his head and let it fall to the ground in a large heap. Although his face was consumed by a hairy beard, his entire body was completely shaven. He turned around to face Alastair. 

 "Lucifer gave me those bracelets so I could not be killed while in Heaven. Unfortunately, it doesn't work with archangels. There is; however, an incantation to burn the sigils into my body rendering me invincible," Mammon uttered. 

 "Then why not do that it the first place?" Alastair inquired in a snarky tone.

 "The spell comes at a great cost of energy. For it to work, I will need to stay hidden away for a long time."

 He closed his eyes and crossed his long arms against his chest. He began uttering an incantation in Sirach. With just a few words of the speech, wind began howling through the cave. Symbols began slowly burning into Mammon's skin on nearly every inch of his body. As he spoke, he started coughing up smoke.

 He fell to his knees as black fumes drifted from his nose and eyes. He continued to speak but his voice was hoarse and broken. Just as the last sigils appeared on his back, his eyes rolled back in his head revealing his white demon eyes. Mammon screamed out before falling to the ground. 

 The wind ceased and silence once again took the cavern. Mammon stood up and called his robes to him with his powers. The cloth slide down his arms and over his body. He began to walk toward the other demons but stumbled. The incantation had taken a mighty toll on his strength.

 "I...I need rest. Wake my brothers and tell them I will return." Mammon transformed into a massive pillar of smoke before traveling into the darkest regions of the cavern.

 Alastair looked at Malphas with a sneer.

 "You know we can't raise them, right?" Alastair turned his attention to a nearby pillar. 

 "My lord?" 

 Alastair walked back to Malphas and stared right into his wrinkly face. 

 "He is playing us. Killing an angel? Really? I mean, lie to my face but at least make it believable. If we release anymore of his kind, we will surely be neck deep in angels."

 "But perhaps they could help, my lord. We are already treading the Heavenly Host as we speak. Why not even the odds. Mammon has abilities and knowledge that we could use. Look at what he's taught us so far."

 Alastair gave Malphas a look of disdain.

 "Oh, yes. He is quite knowledgeable. But all that information is only given at a price. His offer is not enough to risk bringing these demons back. Lucifer is the priority. He's worth more to us than all these lumps of dirt combined. I will do nothing to jeopardize that."

 Malphas hesitated to respond but ultimately made a bow followed by a "yes, my lord". Alastair looked around the cavern before walking away shaking his head. 

* * *

 Dean lay mutilated on the slab as his demonic doppelganger began slicing open his leg. 

 "Now just remember, I only hurt you because I care."

 Having gone hoarse from screaming long ago, Dean simply grunted and twitched as the reflection tore at his flesh. His arms were mangled and useless while his torso remained intact. 

 "We need to purge you of this erratic behavior. You have the blood lust but not the control. It's just about bringing your mind to focus on the victim. All those souls you ripped apart. It was messy but determined. By the end of it, you were truly an artist. Now, it's time to carve a new you."

 The reflection walked into the darkness and began messing around with implements on a table. Dean could hear the clinking of glass as the reflection strolled back to the slab with a smile. 

 "Let's see, we've used hydrochloric acid on your right arm; sulfuric acid on the left. How about I show you what the stuff in the black bottle does. You remember it, right? It can melt metal and wood. Wonder what it does to skin and bone?"

 The reflection opened the bottle and poured it into the open wound on his leg. Dean screamed so loud his vocal chords snapped. The substance began to bubble up as the tissue began to liquefy and pour out on the table. Within seconds, it had eaten a jagged hole through his leg. The reflection laughed as it backed away from the table.

 The demonic Dean then went back to the table and retrieved a towel.  It went to Dean and leaned over his chest with its arm. The reflection then dabbed the sweat away from Dean's forehead. 

 "Hey, now. See that wasn't so bad. You just need to remember your place and we won't have to do this."

 The reflection put the towel across Dean's face. It then reached down and picked up a bucket full of lye. 

 "This should put you out for the night. Sweet dreams, sunshine."

 The reflection then poured the entire contents onto the towel. Dean squirmed and gasped as the solution burned him into unconsciousness. The reflection smiled as he saw the lye eating away at the flesh. The body was almost gone. The only thing left was the mind.


	11. The Dead Inside Them

Year 37:

 For over a year, the intrepid angels treaded through dark vacant hallways, massive spiraling staircases, and the occasional hellhound patrolling the area. After walking down a seemingly endless hallway, the group came upon an opening that lead to an enormous cavern. Castiel halted the group in order to examine the colossal maw that confronted them.

 "This is not right." Castiel turned to Balthazar who was now much healthier. 

 "And everything about this little trek we're on is?" Balthazar looked back at Hester who was talking with Bartholomew, "You two mind sharing with the rest of the group?"

 Hester nodded and then looked at Bartholomew to answer. 

 "We think it would be a good idea to turn back. Maybe we can find another way around," Bartholomew stated. 

 Castiel gave the cavern entrance another look before agreeing with Bartholomew. The group turned around and headed back through the hallway. As they reached the corridor, the doors inexplicably closed and angel warding inexplicably appeared. 

 "What in the...this place?" Balthazar uttered.

 Castiel studied the sigils. He raised his hand and snapped his fingers. Nothing happened. The wall was just a construct but he could no longer break it. The spell that maintained its presence was much stronger the further inward they traveled.  

 Castiel turned to the group. "It looks like we have no other choice but to travel into the cavern. We have fallen into a trap. We must proceed with caution."

 The angels hesitated to enter the cave as they stood at the entrance looking in. Castiel walked in first followed by Balthazar. The others reluctantly straggled behind. 

 The cave was enormous on the inside with walls that reached up into impenetrable darkness. At the end of the massive cavern was a smaller rock tunnel that stretched deeper into the foreboding environment. The tunnel was jagged and narrow forcing the group to go forward in a single file line. 

 "So, Cas?" Balthazar inquired, "What are you going to do with that soul once you get it? Just throw it back on Earth and hope everything will be fine? I hate to tell you this but not only will he be pursued by every evil creepy crawly out there, he will be tormented by what he's done. You can't just pop out of the Pit and be okay. It doesn't work like that."

 Castiel remained looking ahead. He didn't want the group to see the concern on his face.

 "He will be within the acceptable limits of human suffering. A nightmare here and there will not break him."

 Balthazar looked surprised."Really? A nightmare's the worst of your worries. How about a full-blown psychotic breakdown?"

 Castiel remained silent for a long time before responding, "He will be fine."

 Suddenly the walls behind Balthazar began closing in. Bartholomew and Hester were on the other side of the wall leaving Inias with Balthazar and Castiel. The angels attempted to destroy the rock wall but it was no use. They attempted to teleport but the constructs were too powerful to get around. They had to move on without their companions.  

 "Well this is honestly not the worst thing I imagined happening," Balthazar uttered as he looked around the path ahead of the three angels. 

 Bartholomew and Hester could not hear the others as they stood staring at the rock face that had just been their path. The noise of grinding stone startled the pair causing them to jump back. A small opening appeared in a wall further down the hallway in the direction that had just traveled from. Uriel stepped out and motioned them to come to him. Bartholomew looked at Hester who stared straight ahead.  

 Castiel cautiously walked further down the path and looked around at the opening it led to. On the other side was a seemingly endless pit of lava and raised ledges that ran along the walls of the molting cavern. Balthazar and Inias looked over at their leader who calmly stared down at the obstacle before them.

 "Well this certainly puts a pebble in my shoe. How do you suppose we get by this one?" Balthazar leaned over the side to sneak a peek of the churning lava.

 Castiel gave Balthazar a stoic glance before uttering, "We walk."

 He then jumped from the ledge and landed on top of the lava. Castiel did not sink but rather stood on top of the chaotic substance. As the waves bobbed up and down, the angel simply ambled across the lava with an unwavering stride. Balthazar nudged Inias with his elbow before dropping down and following their leader over the long stream of lava. 

 "Seriously, Cas? Do you really have to one up Jesus where ever you go?" Balthazar inquired as he tenderly stretched his legs out with each step. 

 After a period of walking they came to a large wall that held an outcropping which lead to another hallway. Without their wings, the angels had to climb the entire surface by hand. 

 After several hours of ascending the rock face, the trio finally reached their destination. They pulled themselves up onto the flat rock surface jutting out from the wall. Once here, they peered down the pitch-black hallway to see a faint orange light moving in their direction. 

 It appeared to bounce and move as it slowly inched towards them. As it drew closer it became apparent what the light was. It was a lantern being carried but there was nothing or no one in which to hold it. Just a lantern floating steadily down the hall. When it finally arrived, it simply floated to the ground and sat there. The angels stared down at the trinket with curious expressions.

 "What do you suppose we are to do with this?" Inias bent down to level his gaze with it.

 Castiel pulled Inias up. 

 "We are to leave it. Nothing in Hell is what it seems, regardless of how harmless it may appear."

 "Right. Off we go then," Balthazar stated as he walked past the lantern and into the darkened hallway.    

 As they strolled further into the hall, the trio realized that it would soon become pitch-black as no further light could be seen in the distance. Castiel opened his hand and emitted a blue light that acted as a small flashlight. The other two angels did the same but it only gave them enough light to see only a few feet ahead.  

 When they reached the end of the hall, the group was met with a disturbing sight. The doorway opened into a massive room that was filled with a maze constructed from stone. The group stood on a ledge that was attached to a stairway. At the bottom was a small area that contained six hallways that lead into the maze.  

 "This is becoming frustrating. Each new path we take is a further inconvenience to our plan. We cannot even go back and I fear that whoever is leading us in this direction is taking us completely off course. From what I can tell, this maze is massive. We may have to split up just to find the other end within this decade."

 Inais and Balthazar sighed but were ready to choose a path from one of the six entrances. Just before they made a decision, the muted sound of metal clanging against itself rang out from behind them. The trio turned around to see the lantern had followed them down the hall. 

 The metal ring used to hold the lantern was flipping back and forth wildly as it floated into view. The angels watched as it descended the stairs and flew over to the second to last hall. It then stopped midair and waited for the angels.

 "It wants us to follow," Inias said. 

 "No. This is a trap," Castiel uttered. 

 Balthazar shook his head and laughed. 

 "Cas, this whole thing is a damn trap. The moment we stepped through those walls, we were ensnared. It's just a matter of time before we get to the end and everything falls out from beneath us. Why not just get on with it as quickly as possible."

 Castiel reluctantly agreed with Balthazar and the trio began to follow the lantern into the maze.

* * *

 Dean sat on the slab wearing a green plaid shirt over a white t-shirt and dark jeans. He stared at the mock-copy of himself standing in front of him. Its black suit was crisp and silky while his blank eyes glistened in the light of the lamp.

 "You are without a doubt the best victim I have ever had. Before I begin peeling your flesh, I just wanted to say that you have been a real joy to disembowel. Your self-loathing makes you pliable and much easier to slice into. Your mind tells you that you deserve this for what you have done. I am more than happy to oblige those feelings."

 The reflection shoved Dean with its demonic ability, forcing him to lie down on the slab. It then grabbed a scalpel and went in for the first slice. Just as the blade hit flesh, the reflection could hear Dean whispering. 

 "What was that? Did I hear a plea? Or was that just some pathetic rambling from insanity."

  Dean gave the reflection an unexpected grin. "I get it now. You are a construct. I thought it was magic or some type of dimensional space crap but it's not. It's about perception. This place isn't real."

 The reflection thought that it had beaten and tortured Dean into a submissive state but it had all just been an act. He had strengthened his mind rather than let. He had figured out that he wasn't in a real place in Hell. He was in his own mind. Now, fortified with this knowledge, he was ready to strike. 

 "What are you-" Before the reflection could finish, Dean had instantaneously swapped places with it. Dean now stood over the reflection that was lying on the slab. 

 "See what I mean. I just think it and it happens. We're not in Hell anymore, Toto. This is just a mind fuck put on by Alastair at my expense, isn't it? So you know what this revelation means?" Dean moved close to the demon's face.

 "What?!" The reflection asked looking furious.

 "It means I'm Freddy Krueger, you son of a bitch, and you're Nancy."

 The reflection attempted to get up but it was bound to the slab through the sheer force of Dean's will. Dean walked into the shadows and pulled a surgical hand-saw from the implements and came back. He held it up to show the demonic reflection. 

 "See, I have control. You taught me how to keep focused even with everything going on around you. I learned to keep my mouth shut and listen. That's how I'm going to beat you and Alastair. I'll make nice. Do what is asked of me. But when the moment comes I will turn and make you all wish you'd just stayed dead." 

 Dean proceeded to hack into the reflection's stomach and tore open a huge gaping hole that revealed black rotted organs and bile.

 "I really am rotten on the inside, aren't I?" Dean joked.

 "I told you," the reflection spat, "I am you. I'm your soul. It's twisted and tainted just like me. What you see is your own mangled spirit."

 Dean bent down and picked up a large bucket. 

 The reflection started laughing. "You gonna give me a taste of what I did to you? Huh? Is it acid or lye?" The reflection's eyes kept switching between the bucket and Dean.

 "No. We're rotten on the inside...so I'm going to help purify all that dead tissue."

 Dean poured out the bucket into the reflection's wound revealing that it contained not dangerous chemicals but thousands of maggots. The reflection squirmed as he watched the wriggling mass squirm inside him. 

 "Oh, god. You fucking bastard. What the hell is wrong with you?" The reflection tried to move its arms but Dean was not ready to let it go.  

 No. Dean was going to sit there and watch as the maggots slowly consume the insides of his horrible clone. It didn't matter how long it took, Dean could wait. It was subtle torture but it was effective. The reflection was deeply disturbed and this made Dean smile. It was only a matter of time before he awoke again and he'd put Alastair on his slab.


	12. Build a Heaven in Hell's Despair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it has taken so long

Year 38:  

 Alastair frowned as he stood in the dark corridor of the Pit. He held his hands together in front of him while Malphas messed the construct of his tie in order to straighten it. 

 "What do think he will do to us for not raising the other demons?" Malphas looked up at Alastair with a furrowed brow. 

 "Horrible things most likely. He's vicious, arrogant, and has an unwavering determination to march our forces straight into Heaven. We stand in the way of that goal, but do not worry. I have a plan that will ensure he does what we need him to."

 Malphas looked concerned by the comment but had no time to inquire what the plan was as demonic smog had begun pouring into the cavern. Thick waves of black smoke filled the underground room and then swirled into a giant vortex. 

 After a few moments, a form emerged from the swirling mass as the rest of the smoke vanished into it. Mammon was back from his ordeal and was now immune to the angel's blades.  After a moment of gathering his mental faculties, Mammon was displeased to see the Knights still entombed in their earthly prisons. 

 "You have not done as I requested", Mammon said in a much colder and deeper voice than before, "Are you willing to risk life and limb simply to defy me?"

 Alastair cleared his throat before he spoke. 

 "That is exactly what we are doing. You can't just wake up after all these centuries and expect things to be the way they were. The plan is to raise Lucifer. That is all you should be concerned with. That and the angels you were awoke to deal with in the first place."

 Mammon smirked and looked over at the wide-eyed Malphas. 

 "What of you, Builder? Do you forsake me as well?"

 Malphas bowed. 

 "No, my...my lord", Malphas stuttered as he turned his head and was met by Alastair's glaring eyes.  

 Mammon smiled as he retrained his gaze on Alastair. 

 "Then the matter is settled", Mammon uttered as he began to walk forward. 

 The massive demon strolled past the two lesser demons and headed for the entrance of the cavern. Alastair and Malphas turned to watch the behemoth leave. Alastair remained holding his hands behind his back. 

 "Before you go," Alastair said loudly to get Mammon's attention, "I should tell you that the other demons are staying right where they belong until Lucifer himself states otherwise."

   Mammon turned around and looked down at Alastair. 

 "Your mewling strikes my ears as a thorn to flesh. Cease this insubordination. Nothing can be done to stop me", Mammon said as he pointed his long finger toward Alastair. 

 "Really? Nothing at all?" Alastair pulled a sickle out from behind him. 

 He swung the blade down on Malphas' chest causing the demon to scream out in pain. Bluish-white light poured from his mouth and eyes as his body disintegrated into smoke. Alastair withdrew the blade as the last of demonic smog disappeared into glowing blue wisps. Mammon stood there with his mouth agape. 

 "You...you killed the Builder?" Mammon's voice rose with anger. 

 "Yes, I did. And now the only one that can free your brothers is Lucifer."

 Mammon strode towards Alastair with a deadly intent but stopped when he realized exactly what weapon he had used to dispatch Malphas.

 "How did you get that?"

 Alastair smiled as he rubbed the blade with a white cloth from his coat. 

 "When you stole it from Heaven's arsenal it was entrusted to Belial but when all of you were put away...well let's just say it's a hand-me-down. Death's scythe...sickle, actually. Apparently only the Big Guy gets to swing the real thing."

 Mammon stepped back and shot Alastair an ominous look. 

 "So, let's get back to the plan, shall we?" Alastair smiled as he twirled the blade in his hand.   

* * *

 Uriel walked slowly down the dungeon-esque hallway which led away from the giant cavern that Castiel, Inias, and Balthazar had gone through. He passed Hester and Bartholomew who were talking softly with Esper and Ion. Uriel remained looking forward as he neared a hallway on the left side. The rest of the group grew silent as he walked by them. 

 "My ears are burning", Uriel stated while continuing to look forward as he walked.

 As Uriel stepped out into the side hallway, Xaphan met him with her hands behind her back. She had recovered from her altercation with Dean and was back in her black business suit and skirt. 

 "Uriel", Xaphan said coldly as she placed her hands behind her back.

 "Black-eyed whore." Uriel placed his hands in his pants pocket. 

 "I have news from Alastair. It is time", Xaphan stated with a grimace. 

 Uriel nodded and then turned to walk away. 

 Xaphan rolled her eyes and returned to the direction she had come from. 

 As Uriel came back towards the group, the rest of the angels gathered around their de facto leader. 

 "I still don't like the idea of consorting with demons, Uriel. It's bad enough you worked with them to capture Castiel in that maze", Bartholomew said as he crossed his arms. 

 "Drastic times. This is the only way we can stop Castiel from getting all of us killed. Besides I have just been told it is time to let him out."

 As Uriel continued past the group, Hester let out a frustrated laugh. 

 "Right. We just let him out and act like we haven't been holding them prisoner? What about Inias and Balthazar?"

 Uriel stopped and turned sharply to face Hester. 

 "Now listen to me, I did this for Castiel's own good. I told him that if this mission was compromised that I would rectify it. Well, it's compromised and Dean Winchester is not worth the effort it will take to save him. As for Inias and Balthazar, they are coming with us back to Heaven."

 "And what about Castiel?" Hester inquired. 

 Uriel stood up straight and looked around at the rest of the angels in order to address the whole group. 

 "Castiel did this to himself and as much as it pains me to do this, we are giving him over to Mammon."

 The angels were shocked by Uriel's statement.

 "Surely, you are not going to just throw one of our brothers to that demon. That's blasphemous. He is your leader", Bartholomew stated. 

 Uriel walked over to Bartholomew and looked him directly in the eye.    

 "I will face punishment for my insubordination in due time but it is Castiel who has sinned against us. He has put more faith into a human than he has in our sovereign duty. We are soldiers of God. It is beyond us to go rooting through the muck like this in order to save one damned soul. He will face Mammon and, hopefully, survive. This is his penance."

* * *

 Dean awoke in a large comfortable bed with silk sheets and a woman's arm around his bare chest. Morning light poured in through a crack in the drapes. It took him a moment to remember where he was. Suddenly, it hit him. He had made this place. A Heaven of his own created from the only part of him that was left, his mind.

 He slowly pulled the woman's arm off of him and then got out of bed. He stood up and turned around to see Lisa lying in the bed. Dean then walked over to the nearby dresser and pulled out some jeans and a white t-shirt. 

 As he crept through the hallway he passed by Ben's room. Dean peaked in through the door for just a moment to see Ben sound asleep. After going to the kitchen a fixing coffee, Dean went to the nearby slide glass window that peered out into the backyard. The sun had risen slightly casting an orange glow on all the objects in the yard. 

 He had fabricated a garden with vegetables and flowers inside a huge fenced-in backyard but what caught his attention was a small tool shed that sat at the very back of the yard. He glared at it while sipping his coffee. 

 Suddenly, a pair of hands came up over his shoulders and the moist warmth of lips caressed the back of his neck. He wasn't surprised. He was expecting Lisa to come up to him. He had willed it to happen. 

 "You gonna help us plant those tulips this afternoon?" Lisa asked with a whispery almost seductive tone. 

 "Yeah. After me and Ben throw the ball around for a bit. Today, I'm teaching him how to throw a perfect spiral. It'll be awesome."

 Lisa smiled and went to the kitchen to fix breakfast. Dean turned around and watched her go through the motions of making a meal. He didn't know many things about cooking so most often she just made macaroni and cheese but it didn't matter. As long as it looked like she was cooking. 

 After Ben woke up and they ate their meals, everyone went outside to the garden. Dean grabbed the football and began instructing Ben like he was an angry football coach. Everyone laughed at how absurd he sounded and Lisa made a joke about how funny he'd look in gym shorts. Lisa then brought out a large tray of tulip buds and set them down in the garden area before motioning for Ben to come help. 

 "Dean? We need you to dig up the holes so we can put them in the ground", Ben said while examining the dirt. 

 "Yeah. Why don't you go see if you can find a trowel in the tool shed" Lisa uttered with a smile as she happily pointed to the locked shed. 

 Dean smirked and nodded his head. He went over to the shed and unlocked it. The only thing inside was a stairway leading down below the ground. Dean followed the stairs for a short period of time before arriving at a large dark basement. 

 As he walked through the room, Dean looked over to see the decaying corpse of his demonic reflection. It continued to fester and rot while hundreds of maggots and flies clung to the remnants.  He returned his attention to the other side of the room where another slab had been placed. It too contained a body; however, this one was very much alive. Dean clicked on the hanging lamp over the slab to reveal his victim. 

 "Hello, Alastair", Dean uttered with a cold and distant grin. 

 Alastair looked pale and distraught as he wiggled in his restraints. His eyes were wide and bloodshot as he stared up at his tormentor. He had been stripped of his clothing and displayed many deep wounds and burns that covered his body. 

 "I have a new idea for today. I want to see what will happen when I inject holy water directly in your eyes."

 "N-no...no ple-ease!!" Alastair whimpered. 

 Dean pulled out a syringe from the table of instruments next to him. He leaned over Alastair and looked at him with a large smile.

 "Well ain't I a sight for sore eyes. I know, it's a dumb pun, but I just can't help myself", Dean said just before jabbing the needle into the demon's eye. 

 Alastair's screams permeated the basement and echoed out into the yard. Even though the sounds were deafening and horrific, Ben and Lisa continued to happily arrange the tulip bulbs while they eagerly waited for Dean to return with the trowel.


	13. Abandon Me to the Grave

Year 38:

 Castiel walked quickly down the maze corridor as Balthazar and Inias followed behind. The lamp they had been following continued to light their path with an unyielding stride.  The walls around them were sandstone and the top opened up into a massive cavernous darkness for the ceiling was so high it appeared as a deep black void above their heads. 

 It had been over a year since they had first entered the maze but their determination was steady and true. They were righteous soldiers marching as if to a holy war.  

 "Cas?" Balthazar inquired, "Do you remember Lot? 

 Castiel continued to look forward as he responded. 

 "Of course, he was a reverent figure to the Lord...although he was a bit insensitive to his family."

 Balthazar nodded his head in agreement. 

 "You remember when me and Ezekiel went to see him?"

 "Yes I do. The townspeople tried to have their way with you."

 "Right...right. Well I've been meaning to ask? Do you think his daughters were more attractive than me?"

 Castiel stopped abruptly and turned around to face Balthazar. 

 "Are you asking me my opinion of your aesthetics compared to that of the daughters of Lot?"

 "See, I knew you were always the sharp one, Cas", Balthazar stated sarcastically.  

 "I think beauty is irrelevant", Castiel retorted while completely oblivious to Balthazar's sarcasm. 

 Balthazar crossed his arms and tilted his head slightly as he spoke. 

 "Of course you would. You're quite the handsome one, aren't you? No need to worry about beauty with a face like that."

 Castiel looked at Inias who was snickering. 

 "What is humorous about our engagement?" Castiel inquired.  

 "The whole thing. It is just comical to see two angels arguing about their looks." 

 Just as they began talking again, a loud banging sound caught their attention. The trio looked down the corridor ahead of them and saw the lamp on the right side of the corridor swinging into the wall near a hallway. This one looked different than the rest of the maze; as if it were a hole carved into the wall. 

 "Was that there before?" Balthazar inquired. 

 "I do not believe so", Castiel remarked. 

 The lamp then turned inside the mystery hallway and disappeared. Castiel quickly walked over to the hallway but saw only darkness within. The lamp was faint and distant. 

 "Come on. This may be a way out but we must tread lightly", Castiel said as he motioned for the other two angels to follow him. 

 Just as Castiel walked through the new corridor, the entrance closed off, leaving Balthazar and Inias trapped in the maze. Castiel attempted to break through the wall but, like before, his powers and strength were useless. 

 "What is going on here?" Castiel uttered to himself as he turned around to see the faint glow of the lantern coming back towards him. 

 There was something different about it, though. Castiel could see a figure holding it up as they approached. 

 "Hello Castiel."

 Castiel instantly recognized the voice.

 "Uriel", he responded in a deep tone. 

 He held the lamp up to his face revealing a smile. 

 "It's been awhile, brother."

 Uriel then caused the lamp to get brighter before setting it on the ground between them. 

 "What is going on here?" Castiel inquired as he looked from the lamp to Uriel, "Are you the one who has been leading us around?"

 "Yes, I have been giving something to follow. I didn't figure it would suit you to be stuck in some dark room for a year so I lured you into this maze and trapped you. I'm afraid it was necessary to keep you from getting too far."

 Castiel looked down at the ground and he rubbed his chin as he contemplated Uriel's words. He then stood up straight and went to Uriel.

 "So you made a maze to keep us in? Why? For what purpose? And what of Inias and Balthazar?"

 Uriel placed his hand on Castiel's shoulder as he spoke in a soothing tone. 

 "No the maze was already there, I just tweaked it here and there. It turns out that Hell is easy to manipulate if you know which threads to pull. As for the other two, they were there to keep you company. That and dumb luck, Inias was standing where Bartholomew should have been. Can you imagine listening to Balthazar and him arguing for the better part of a year? It was supposed to be funny."

 "Hilarious", Castiel retorted, "That still doesn't explain why you were keeping from advancing."

 Uriel sighed and withdrew his hand. He put his hands together behind his back as he turned to face the glow the lamp gave on the corridor wall. 

 "I have set into motion some things that you may find...unfathomable." 

 "What? What are you saying, Uriel?"

 Uriel turned back around to face Castiel. 

 "I have made a deal with the demons in order to gain safe passage out of Hell."

 "You have held me captive, deceived me, brother, and now you tell me your actions are those of a traitor? There is no safe passage in Hell. And what exactly did you give them in return for this proposed treaty?"

 "You, Castiel. I gave them you."

 Castiel leaned his back against the corridor wall as he stared wide-eyed at Uriel.

 "Why would you do this, Uriel? You are a soldier of God! My brother. How could you betray me?"

 Uriel shot a warm smile that completely contrasted the tone of the conversation. 

 "I still am, Castiel. While it may seem like betrayal, I assure you that this is all part of the plan."

 Castiel squinted his eyes as he scanned Uriel's face. 

 "What plan?"

 "As I said before, I needed to rectify this suicide march into Hell. The priority is no longer Dean Winchester. Our march into Hell has inadvertently caused the release of Mammon and we need to fix that immediately."

 "But why give them me?"

 "Alastair wants the angel responsible for leading this assault. I give them over to you while the others are on their way out. This way we can gain direct access to him without endangering the rest of the garrison. Mammon has become much more powerful and we cannot risk our brothers and sisters. You and I should be able to take care of the rest."

 "And what should be done with Dean Winchester? He is prophesied to play a major role in the Apocalypse."

 "I am not saying we should forget about the scriptures but this incursion may not be the time to rescue him. Whether he is up there or down here, the Apocalypse is going to happen. In the event that we do need him, we will know exactly where he is."

 "If we do not save him now, there will be no chance to save him from becoming a demon."

 "Then you need to come to terms with the fact that we may have to leave him behind. There are bigger stakes here than the Apocalypse on Earth. If Mammon is allowed to roam free we could be facing an all out war with the demons of old before Lucifer is even an issue. We must do what we have to."

 "As always, you are right, Uriel. I will do as you ask, but I will still attempt to free him. Regardless of what happens to me, I must rescue him from this horrible place."

* * *

 "Man, this place is awesome!" Dean shouted as opened his refrigerator to get some beer. 

 He had been working on creating more intricate details for the world he was now living in. Instead of stark white walls and furniture, everything was colored and textured appropriately. He had constructed the house that Lisa and Ben lived in and many other features such as pictures that hung on the walls and a TV that played old movies or at least what Dean could remember. 

 Dean stared into the refrigerator for a long time as he scanned all the different kinds of beer that he had stocked it with. He grabbed three El Sol beers and traveled away from the kitchen to a nearby hallway where a gritty brown door sat. He threw open the door and walked inside.

 On the other side of the door was a garage with several tools and automotive equipment. The floors were dirty and authentic while his baby sat in the middle of the room. Underneath the hood of the Impala, Sam was attempting to fix the carburetor like Dean had showed him while Bobby sat on a cooler watching. 

 "You haven't broke my baby yet, have ya Sammy?" Dean asked as he closed the door with his foot. 

 "Just give me a little time", Sam said with a backward glance to Dean, "I'll have this thing purring like a kitten."

 Bobby looked up at Dean and saw the bottles in his hands. 

 "Well it's about damn time, Princess", Bobby remarked, "What'dja have to do? Go to Hell and back to get it?"

 Dean smiled as he threw his disgruntled pal a beer. 

 "Well we have plenty of beer under your ass but "somebody" won't get up for five seconds to get one."

 "Oh, I didn't realize walking ten feet to the fridge was going to kill you", Bobby retorted.

 Bobby shot him a smirk before taking a swig of beer. Dean chuckled as he handed a beer to Sam. Dean leaned against a large tool chest while Sam sat on a stool next to the car. Then the three men just sat there in silence. It was all Dean could think for them to do. 

 He had tried to make them talk about things they would talk about but without truly knowing what Sam or Bobby would really say in that given instance, the conversations always felt...off. It was fine, though. Dean was perfectly content with just sipping a beer with people he once knew. People he cared about.  

 After a long while, Dean finished his beer and sat it on the tool chest before heading to the door.

 "Well guys, it's been fun but I really need to do some work in the tool shed." 

 Dean left the house and went to the shed. He gleefully threw open the doors and, with a graceful stride, slid down the stair railings. After landing with a loud clap, Dean made his way to Alastair on the other side of the room. 

 "Oh, I have been looking forward to this all day. When I see your face like this...I don't know; I get a tingle of joy."

 Alastair was still lying naked on the slab with his arms and legs strapped down. He was pale and sweaty as he shook uncontrollable from pain. His mouth was sewn shut and the skin around the threads had been torn from his attempts to scream. Along the center of his stomach was a long incision that had been hastily stitched up. The skin around it looked lumpy and irregular as white smoke poured through gaps in the wound.  

 "Don't worry. Yesterday was the hard part. Today, I'm taking the rosaries out."


	14. Long Hard Road Out of Hell Pt.1

Year 39:

 On a long stretch of empty hallway, far removed from the activities of Hell, lay a single black door that contrasted the dull gray bricks surrounding it. It was a simple door with a gold handle; however, it served a significant purpose to the demons. It allowed direct passage to Earth. 

 On the wall next to the door stood a demon named Phenex who had been selected by Malphas to guard it. His construct was that of an average sized man with a chiseled face and rounded nose that sat underneath golden blonde hair that flopped carelessly to one side. The Salesman referred to him as "Trumpy" for that very reason. Phenex looked down at his watch before reaching inside his black coat and pulling out a cigarette along with a lighter. Just as he lit up, a faint knock rang out from the other side of the black door. 

 Phenex took a long puff of his cigarette and then slowly walked to door. He opened it to reveal a short man with black hair and dark eyes. It was The Salesman. 

 "Ello, Trumpy", the Salesman said with a sly British accent, "I've got a little present for you."

 The Salesman brandished a black briefcase. 

 "One hundred souls", he said.

 Phenex placed the cigarette on the side of his mouth and grabbed the briefcase. He placed it on his arm and opened it up. A brilliant white light filled the hallway as he stared at the contents. 

 "There's only fifty here", Phenex said gruffly while closing the briefcase. 

 The Salesman smiled and pulled another briefcase out from behind him. 

 "Well you can't blame a guy for trying", he said as Phenex checked the second briefcase. 

 "So, do you have what I want this time?", the Salesman asked as Phenex sat the briefcases to the side and pulled the cigarette from his mouth. 

 "Follow me."

 Phenex and the Salesman walked down the corridor for a long a time. They eventually came to an opened doorway that led to a large kennel. Inside there were dozens of hellhounds nestled inside steel cages. To a wandering soul, it would simply appear as an empty but noisy room. 

 As the Salesman walked by, the hellhounds began to howl and wag their tails. In the very back of the kennel was a small tiled room that contained a hellhound that had given birth to a litter. 

 "Go on...take your pick", Phenex stated with his arm held out invitingly. 

 The Salesman bent down and examined the litter until he saw the perfect pup.   

 "I want that big one in the corner", he stated, "The one eating its sibling." 

 After receiving his payment, the Salesman returned to the door while Phenex gave the suitcases to a demon with dark hair and sunglasses. The Salesman held the newly claimed pup in his arms as he walked into the doorway. 

 "Come on, Growly, we have souls to collect", he stated as the door closed behind him. 

 Phenex finished his cigarette, threw it on the ground, and then leaned back up against the wall.

* * *

 "Prayers cannot be heard in Hell, Castiel", Uriel stated as he noticed the angel's bowed head. 

 "It is not that they cannot be heard, there is simply no salvation for the damned."

 Uriel cleared his throat. 

 "Like Dean Winchester?" 

 Castiel stopped walking and turned to Uriel.

 "I'll say this for the last time. Salvation for Dean Winchester is salvation for us all."

 Castiel continued walking down the dungeon corridor without waiting to hear a response. Uriel gave Castiel a cold look before continuing down the hallway. The other angels had been sent back the direction they came, although this time on supposedly safer passage. Balthazar refused to go at first but ultimately gave in to Castiel's request. It had been several weeks since they had departed from the rest of the garrison. 

 "Tell me, Castiel. What were you praying for?"

 Castiel made eye contact with Uriel before returning his gaze ahead. 

 "Guidance. Protection. I am beginning to think we may have made an error by commanding the garrison to retreat. If what you told me of Mammon's invincibility is true, then we alone may not be enough to stop him."

 "But surely you would not openly subject them to a demon as old and powerful as Mammon. He seems to know more about our kind than we do. Why put the lives of your garrison in jeopardy?"

 "I will fear for their lives either way." 

 Uriel stopped walking as Castiel proceeded forward. 

 "This deal you made with the demons", Castiel continued, "It is going to blow up in our faces."

 Suddenly, the corridor was rocked by an explosion that sent Castiel flying backward. He let out a grunt as he struck the ground hard. A makeshift bomb had been planted on the adjacent corridor by the demons. Uriel slowly walked over to the shell-shocked angel and retrieved the blade hidden in Castiel's coat. Dazed, Castiel lifted himself up with his arm and looked at Uriel with confusion. 

 "Wha...what are you doing?" Castiel uttered.   

 "What needs to be done", Uriel responded as he looked toward the source of the explosion. 

 As a large group of demons came out of the hole in the wall, Castiel passed out. Uriel bent down to his fallen comrade. 

 "Please, trust me, Castiel", he whispered, "This is all part of the plan."

 He then stood up to address the demons. 

 "It worked just as we planned", Uriel stated to the demons, "The explosion was enough to incapacitate him."

 Uriel walked past Castiel's body and toward the hole in the wall. He then paused for a moment and turned around. 

 "Well", he said looking at the demons, "Pick him up."

 The demons gathered up the body and followed Uriel out of the corridor.

* * *

 Alastair smiled as he stood in front of Dean. He twirled a large knife in his hands as he studied the distant stare of his victim.

 "Oh, Dean", he uttered, "You've been in there for too long. There must have been so much pain...so much torture; all at the hands of your own mind. It's almost poetic, really. But, I have a surprise for you. I'm going to wake you up. I need my protégé back at the helm now that this siege business is over. I need you back at my side."

 Alastair reached up and touched the side of Dean's head. He suddenly awoke with a deep gasp of breath. Dean coughed and fell to his knees. Alastair leaned down to address him. 

 "Hello, again, Dean", Alastair stated with a snarky tone, "I hope you understand, now, that if I want to, I can make you suffer." 

 Dean rubbed his eyes and looked around him. After a moment of thought Dean stood up and looked directly at Alastair. 

 "You...", Dean muttered.

 "I what?", Alastair responded, "Saved you? Hm? Freed you from your own personal hell?"

 "You...son of a bitch!", Dean shouted as he brought his hands up and slammed the demon's head down on his knee.

 Alastair lurched backward onto the ground. He attempted to throw Dean with his telekinesis but found it muted against him. Dean retrieved the knife Alastair dropped on the floor and then straddled the demon across his stomach. He held the knife up to Alastair's eye.  

 "I can't make you suffer here. No. You're not some low-level demon. You'd start healing the minute I cut into you. So, I'm going to make it hurt where I can. I'm going to bring this whole damn place down around us. The souls, the demons, all of it. I'm officially putting Hell out of business."

 Dean stood up and walked over to the mirror on the wall. He lifted his shirt and brought the knife to his skin to carve his protection sigils when he suddenly realized he was covered in some already. They were strange to him. He rubbed his fingers across the symbols. They looked nothing like the marks used by the demons.

 "What is this, Alastair?", Dean inquired while looking down at the demon on the floor.

 "A very bad idea", Alastair remarked as he stood up.

 "Don't fuck around with me, you piece of shit! What the hell are these?"

 "They're warding sigils", Alastair revealed while straightening his suit, "Nasty ones too. I can't seem to hurt you anymore. I can't even heal you. I know that because while you were busy...manhandling me, I was attempting to take them away."

 Dean looked at Alastair with a scowl.

 "You're a real pervert, you know that?" Dean said lowering his shirt, "Touching my body without me knowing. God knows what you did while you had me roofied." 

 Alastair shot Dean a very creepy smile. 

 "Oh, I wouldn't do that, Dean", Alastair responded in a very low voice, "I already know you...inside and out."

 Dean walked over to the demon and punched him across the face. Alastair fell to the floor with a loud thud. 

 "Ha, ha", Dean said sarcastically as he bent over the fallen demon, "Laugh it up, Chuckles. But just remember, you turned me into this. You made me a monster. And that little trip into Cloud Cuckoo Land only made me better. So, once this place is dust, whatever is left of me, will be devoted to bringing you nothing but unending misery."

 Alastair licked the blood from the side of his mouth as the bruising quickly vanished. He frowned as Dean stood up and walked out of the room. He wasn't concerned about Hell or the souls anymore. He was upset. Like a man who had to put his dog down. Alastair knew he had to wipe Dean's soul out of existence. He reached inside his nearby desk and pulled out Death's scythe. 

 As Dean confidently strolled down the hall, Alastair stepped out of his office and whistled loudly with his two fingers. This caused Dean to stop and turn around. 

 "Did you really think I would just let you walk away?", Alastair said as he held the scythe in his hands, "Let you just walk about Hell tearing it apart. Tsk, tsk. You're not as bright as I thought. It's time to put you down, Dean."

 Dean began to walk toward the demon but hesitated when he saw a massive group of demons running down the hall. All of them were clad in black suits and looked pissed. Dean looked down the corridor behind him to see even more demons approaching. He readied himself for conflict. Brandishing the large knife in his hands, Dean crouched slightly and spread his arms out. 

 As the first demons arrived, Dean swung the knife up cutting one of them in the throat all the way up to the jaw. Dean made a blind kick behind him that landed in the stomach of an approaching demon. He then tackled the demon he had cut causing him to fall back on a pair of demons running up. Dean ducked to avoid a punch and then twirled his leg around to knock down his attacker. 

 As he sprang back to his feet, a demon caught him in the chin with his fist. Before Dean could recover, another one kicked him in the gut. Dean quickly became overwhelmed by their numbers. He screamed out as the wave of demons engulfed him. Alastair cackled loudly as he watched them beat on his apprentice.

 "I may have made you a monster, Dean, but you certainly have made plenty of your own." 

 The demons Alastair had summoned were the ones Dean had personally turned.


	15. Long Hard Road Out of Hell Pt.2

Year 39:

 Mammon stood in a brick-lined corridor with a squad of twenty demons and Xaphan. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation as Xaphan studied the massive demon standing beside her. 

 "Are all the old demons as tall as you?" she inquired, "I mean, you can hardly even fit in these corridors."

 Mammon looked down at the significantly shorter demon with a frown. 

 "Does my appearance confound you?" he responded. 

 "It is...distracting, to say the least", Xaphan said as she slowly examined his body. 

 The elder demon pulled his robes open slightly and turned to Xaphan revealing his nude tattooed body. 

 "You demons of this age...you expend too much effort on these...these constructs. I see lust in your eyes as you stare upon me but this is only a facade you crave. You say my height is an oddity but in the true aspects of this realm, Lucifer is forty stories high when measured by the metrics of your constructs. I pale in comparison to him...to my true form. When I am done with Heaven, I will reform this place into the Hell it is supposed to be."

 Mammon closed his robes and turned forward. Xaphan looked shocked by the turn in the conversation. 

 "So...height is a sensitive topic for you. Understood.", Xaphan stated as she faced forward. 

 Before Mammon could respond, there was a sound of doors being swung open down the hall. Uriel quickly walked down the corridor followed by the group of demons carrying Castiel. Mammon waved his hand causing the doors to slam shut and lock behind them.    

 "Ah, a wise man bearing gifts", Mammon stated with a courtesy bow, "Long I have awaited your arrival."

 Uriel gave an uneven smile as he looked up at the massive demon before him. 

 "Exceedingly costly gifts, I might add. Have you done as I requested?"

 "Yes", Mammon replied, "Your pitiful garrison has been given safe passage", 

 Uriel snapped his fingers and then pointed at the ground.

 "Then here is the angel responsible for the attack on Hell."

 The demons placed Castiel's unconscious body in front of the ancient demon. 

 "He seems smaller than when we last met", Mammon stated with disappointment.

 "Trust me, he is much tougher than he looks", Uriel said looking down at Castiel, "I would even dare say he's...dangerous."

 Mammon caught the gleam in Uriel's eye. The gleam only a person plotting murder has. The ancient demon looked upon Uriel with a malicious grin. He had never seen an angel with such...potential.

 "I sense there is more to this arrangement than simply bartering for safe passage. What is it you hope to claim by our agreement?" Mammon questioned. 

 "Lucifer", Uriel stated in a cold monotone, "I want him to rise."

 Mammon grimaced at Uriel's statement. He was already angered by Alastair's quest to raise Lucifer and now an angel was proposing the same thing. 

 "Why would you want such a thing? What purpose could that possibly serve you?", Mammon inquired.

 "You demons always seem to forget that Lucifer is an angel. I wish to follow him. Live by his example and serve him. God has failed us. We are to revere his hairless apes and merely forget they are selfish little squirming piles of filth. Lucifer is the only way. The pure way."

 Mammon ran his fingers through his thick beard while Xaphan and Uriel stared at each other. After a minute of thought, Mammon looked down at Uriel with a devilish smile. 

 "These words sound like a deception in my ear" Mammon chuckled, "You would not be making such demands unless you had something very valuable in return. Tell, angel, what price are you willing to pay for your Lord?"

 "Heaven", Uriel stated without hesitation.

 Mammon squinted his eyes slightly at Uriel's proposal.

 "Heaven?" he uttered in disbelief.

 "That is correct", Uriel responded, "There is a hidden entrance located on Earth. And to make your overall task easier, I will even show you the locations of the rest of the seals needed to raise him." 

 Xaphan scoffed at Uriel's response.

 "Sorry, but we already know where they are," she stated matter-of-factly.

 "True, but I can tell you which ones the angels are not protecting."

 Mammon and Xaphan shared a look before returning their gaze to Uriel. 

 "I will agree to this astonishing claim, but do not test me, angel. I am impervious to your weapons. If I sense for even a moment that I am being had, I will not hesitate to slaughter you as I would a lamb."

 Uriel gave Mammon a cocky grin before withdrawing an angel blade from his sleeve and holding it out for the ancient demon.  

 "Then you'll be needing one of these. Only an angel can kill another angel. Or should I say angel blade?"

 Mammon's face became elated as he gazed down at the silvery trinket. The blade looked like a twig within the demon's grasp but remained a fearsome sight. After examining his new prize, Mammon set his eyes on Castiel who remained unconscious on the floor. As Mammon bent down and lifted the angel up by his coat, Castiel let out a slight grunt. He was beginning to come around. 

 "Marvelous. I was hoping you would awaken before I began", Mammon said as he brought Castiel close to his face.

 Castiel opened his eyes slowly but could only see a large black blur in front of him. As he finally came to his senses, he realized he was staring into the face of one of the worst demons in existence. 

 "Wha...what", Castiel muttered, "What are you...doing to me?"

 Mammon let out a rapturous laugh before holding the blade up to Castiel's neck. 

 "I am freeing you of this plane. I hold your ruin in my hands. Pray for me, angel. Pray for your life."  

 Castiel struggled but Mammon reasserted his grip on the angel's coat. Just as Mammon went in to slice his throat, Castiel lifted his arms and fell out of his coat to the floor. He stood up and rushed the corridor but was stopped by the squad of demons who had brought him there. 

 The demons grabbed him and pushed him back toward Mammon who was cackling at the spectacle before him. Like a doomed rat trying to escape a fire, Castiel was attempting to scurry away from certain death. As the demons pushed him forward, Castiel looked over to see Uriel standing next to Xaphan. To him, it appeared as if his colleague was being held back by the demon. Castiel did not realize he had been betrayed.  

 Castiel suddenly began smiting the captors holding him. He burnt two of the demons into fiery white smoke before several more grabbed a hold of his arms. Mammon intervened and grabbed Castiel by the throat. He then lifted the angel into the air. As Mammon ogled his prize, the sound of wood splintering filled the corridor. Everyone turned to see the large double doors at the end of the hallway bowing from pressure on the other side. 

 "Go, my minions", Mammon shouted to the demons around him, "See who disturbs us."

 Just as the demons neared the doors, they exploded into splintered chunks as Bartholomew and Balthazar came charging through, followed by the rest of the garrison. 

 The demons immediately began attacking but where quickly overwhelmed by the small yet powerful force. Bartholomew deflected a punch and struck the demon in the throat with his angel blade. Balthazar did a running kick causing two demons to collide into each other. Hester and Inias provided back up while Esper and Ion began smiting the demons running toward them. 

 Mammon scowled as he watched the demons erupt into white light and smog. He placed the angel blade into his robes and commanded the squad behind him to attack. Castiel lay on the floor as he had been flung to the ground in the ensuing chaos. He looked up to see the ancient demon distracted by the fight. Castiel knew this was his only chance. 

 In a blur of motion, Castiel jumped to his feet and flung himself onto Mammon. He dug his fingers deeply into the massive demons left shoulder. Mammon grabbed Castiel and threw him into the wall but screamed out as he did. Castiel regained his composure and revealed the grisly reason for Mammon's sudden outburst of pain. The angel had torn a large swath of flesh from the demon. 

 "Enough!!", Mammon uttered in a booming voice. 

 He held his long arm out and caused all the angels, including Uriel, to fly up into the ceiling. Castiel dropped the flesh from his hand as he landed. 

 "You believe you can bring harm to me?!" Mammon shouted at Castiel.

 The massive demon pulled open the top of his robes to reveal the wound Castiel had inflicted was already healed. Something caught Castiel's eye that changed the whole plan. The area he had pulled off had indeed grown back but it was lacking the tattoos that had been in place.    

 "You wail at us as an infant would", Castiel yelled out, "It is unbecoming for a demon of your stature."

 Mammon mashed his teeth into a snarl as he stared up at the impudent angel. Because of his height, he came face to face with Castiel as he spoke.

 "There is no amount of suffering I can bring to you that would ever forgive this lack of respect", Mammon whispered in a deep tone, "But I will surely make the attempt."

 Castiel looked at Mammon with a steely gaze. The ancient demon grabbed Castiel's dangling tie to hold him steady before reaching into the side of his robes. After a moment of searching, Mammon's eyes widened as he returned his gaze to Castiel's eyes. 

 "Looking for this?", Castiel said just before plunging the angel blade into the demon's eye. 

 In the moment Castiel had jumped on to Mammon, he had dug his hand into his skin to distract the demon from the maneuver to retrieve his angel blade. This action revealed a weakness that would have otherwise been over looked. The spell that placed the tattoos on his body only burned the symbols into his skin. This meant if Castiel could remove enough of the sigils he could kill Mammon once and for all. It would not be an easy task. 

 All the other angels fell to the ground as Mammon struggled to remove the blade from his eye. The garrison continued to mop up the few remaining demons while Uriel wiped the dirt off his suit. Castiel picked up his coat and put it back on while the massive demon stomped about. Mammon finally pulled the weapon from his eye as he shouted profanities in a dead language. As his eye healed, Mammon realized he was now surrounded by the angels. 

 "We must eliminate the markings on his skin to harm him", Castiel stated as he remained staring at Mammon, "Brothers and sister, we must tear the flesh from his bones."

 Just as the garrison began to attack, Mammon erupted into a massive wall of smoke that filled the corridor. In the blink of an eye, the demonic smog slammed into Castiel sending the angel careening through the wall into the next corridor. The smoke followed him through and slammed him into the next wall and continued on until they were out of sight. The angels walked up to the hole in the wall and peered inside. 

 "Well that was just rude", Balthazar stated as he looked around at the others.


	16. Long Hard Road Out of Hell Pt.3

Year 39:

 Thick red blood. The corridor was covered in it. Dripping from the walls; pools on the floor. The bodies of the demons Dean had slaughtered lay strewn about at his feet; heaped upon one another without thought or reason. He clutched the large knife in his hand as he stared at the remaining demons surrounding him. 

 When the demons had first enveloped him, Dean realized rather quickly that the punches and kicks they inflicted were only causing superficial pain. During his time in Hell, Dean had learned a new definition of suffering. Being beat up by bunch of demons was merely an annoyance at this point, but the situation was much more complex than that. Thanks to the Enochian sigils placed by Alastair, Dean was literally invincible to the demon's attempts to harm him. This would be his chance to fight back.

 Dean grabbed a demon by the neck and swung him into an adjacent attacker. He retrieved his knife from the ground and began to wildly slash at the demons around him. This gave him enough space to twirl his leg around knocking down several of the wounded demons. Dean launched himself into the crowd with a burst of speed. Blood splashed and sprayed around him as he flew into a berserker rage. 

 Alastair continued to watch the spectacle from the doorway of his office. His face no longer displayed a look of amusement. Instead, he grimaced at the sight before him. Even with Death's scythe, Alastair was beginning to doubt whether or not it would work on Dean. A soul cannot be destroyed. As the thought crossed his mind, Alastair started creeping away from the conflict and exited through a hall further down the corridor. 

 Dean's fury was so devastating that the few demons left began to run away. Dean was covered in blood and sported a look of madness but when he looked around at the carnage and fear he had caused; he fell to his knees and erupted into laughter. 

 "That's right, run!", he shouted gleefully, "Run, you cowards! You know I love a good hunt!"

 Dean wanted desperately to be good. He had fought the tugging darkness at every turn. Every step. Every thought. The constant weight of his soul being devoured and his mind being forced to endure sights that would drive anyone normal person stark raving mad was too much to endure. He tried to forget the things he had done. The souls he had mutilated and corrupted. In the moment after being awakened by Alastair, all the memories came flooding back. 

 Dean remembered all the torture...the rape. Was he any better than the Grand Torturer of Hell? Could he ever be redeemed? Should he be redeemed? Dean was just tired of fighting the squirming pain of the demon clawing out his soul. It was time to embrace what he fought so desperately to avoid. It was time to just let go. His worst fears had come true but he no longer cared. He had let the demon inside win. His mind was almost gone. 

 Dean had always thought of demons as uncaring beasts who only gained enjoyment from slaughtering the innocent but as the demonic grip on his soul wormed its way inside his brain, he felt his emotions heighten. Like a cleansing fire, the wave of corruption washed over his mind allowing him to let go of the guilt he felt. He could feel much more...precisely, than a human could. He suddenly felt comfortable in his own skin. The blood that covered him was no longer a sticky irritation but a wondrous sensation that compelled him to find more. 

 Dean displayed a slight grin as he walked calmly down the hallway, tapping the knife in his hand against the wall as he went. His senses were much more efficient now. He could feel the souls trembling in their chambers as he passed by door after door. As he continued his stroll, he smelled something familiar...something sinister. One of the rooms was reeking of sulfur. Dean placed his ear up to the door to listen.

 Inside he heard nothing. No whimpering or squirming. Dean gave the door a cold look before standing back and kicking it in with ease. As he bounded inside he suddenly realized the small chamber was empty. He spun around the room checking every corner and crevasse but yielded no signs of a demon. A muffled sound rang out from behind Dean, causing him to twirl around and fling his blade on reflex. 

 The weapon soared straight at the source of the noise but was caught before it found its target. Alastair stood at the doorway holding the knife just inches from his chest.  

 "Nice throw, grasshopper", Alastair said as he turned the knife around in his hand, "Did Daddy teach you that?"

 Dean lunged at the demon with a punch but Alastair stepped aside at the last second; deflecting it. Alastair brandished the knife in one hand and the scythe in the other while assuming an attack stance. He then let out a gasping hiss as a mocking gesture toward the primal behavior of Dean. 

 "Do you really think you are ready to have it out with your master?", Alastair inquired with a grin, "Come on, Dean. We both know you don't have what it takes. Unlike you, I don't succumb to the pain...I embrace it."

 Just as Dean began to assault Alastair for a second time, a low rumbling noise in the distance halted him in his tracks. With his heightened senses, he could smell an overwhelming amount of sulfur mixed with frankincense moving quickly toward them. Within seconds, the low rumble became a deafening roar that caused the corridor to shake. Before the pair could react, the wall exploded into large fragments as Mammon came barreling through, carrying Castiel with him. 

Dean fell to the floor as the hallway filled with massive plumes of black smoke that swirled and slammed around violently. To his eyes, the smoke appeared to be holding a blinding, bluish-white light that pulsed and vibrated. Dean didn't understand what he was looking at.

Everything was happening so fast, it was impossible to make sense of it all. The smoke then changed direction before gathering toward one spot and slamming into the opposite wall. The demonic smog vanished as quickly as it had appeared, taking the bright light with it. Dean sat on the ground in a daze as he looked over at the spot he had last saw Alastair. The demon was nowhere to be found.  

* * *

 Uriel and the rest of the garrison where following the detour created by Mammon's exit when they stopped at an empty corridor. Uriel bent down and wiped his fingers across the ground before bringing them up to his nose for a whiff. 

 "Do you smell that?", Uriel asked Bartholomew who was standing behind him.

 "Hellhounds", Bartholomew responded. 

 Uriel wiped his hands on his pants and then stood up. 

 "Yes. A lot of them." 

 Balthazar looked at Uriel and Bartholomew with contempt. 

 "And how do we know you didn't send them here yourself?" Balthazar inquired with a stern look. 

 Uriel placed his hands behind his back and stepped forward to address the lower ranking angel. 

 "I told you before; drastic measures had to be taken. I never wanted to put Castiel in danger but we needed a way to get close to Mammon. That is why we sent you away. The negotiations with the demons were merely ruse. You should be thanking me for this turn of events. Had Castiel not been so close to Mammon, we would have never figured out how to stop the beast. You should be thanking me."

 Balthazar eyed Uriel suspiciously before looking down and shaking his head as he walked past the angel.

 "And if we hadn't shown up...Castiel would have been dead. How did that fit into your plan?" Balthazar uttered. 

 "I admit", Uriel said as he turned to address Balthazar, "Things got out of hand, but we knew going into this that our very lives would be at stake. I also had faith that you would do what was necessary for the good of Heaven; whether that meant retreating or following us to prevent our demise. Remember brothers, with faith, anything can be achieved."

 "That doesn't explain-" Balthazar began.

 "Enough!", Bartholomew exclaimed, "We have bigger fish to fry at the moment. Whatever indiscretions Uriel has committed will be determined by the Heavenly Host. Not by this garrison and surely not here in the bowels of Hell."

 The garrison all agreed and continued on the path to find Mammon and Castiel. Unbeknownst to the rest of the garrison, Uriel's plans had gone far from perfect. In reality, the garrison's presence all but ruined his chances. He had arranged passage with the demons in exchange for Castiel so he could get closer to the demons without the interference of the garrison. 

 Uriel wanted Mammon to kill Castiel and then Dean Winchester, before allowing them to break the other seals. They would then lay siege to Heaven. Once Lucifer had the angels under his control, they could do away with the demons and Hell for good. Earth would be their new dominion. The one chance he had at wiping out Heaven and bringing in a new world was gone. His plans for Lucifer remained the same but he would have to find another way to do it. In the mean time, he had another goal while he was in Hell. 

 Find the soul of Dean Winchester and bury it deep in the Pit.  


End file.
